


Counting Sheep

by CloseToSomethingReal



Category: Good Omens
Genre: Animal Death, Blood, F/F, Ineffable Wives, Vampire Crowley, Vampires, Violence against Children, Werewolves, its a monster au!, werewolf aziraphale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:40:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27548476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloseToSomethingReal/pseuds/CloseToSomethingReal
Summary: Zira was very happy with her life. She had a nice cottage, a garden, a bird named Sunshine, and a flock of sheep. It was all she needed, really. What else would a werewolf such as herself want?So when something attacks her flock and leaves the carcasses to rot, Zira has no choice but to track down the culprit.She just didn't expect to find a newborn vampire who's coven had abandoned her.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 102
Kudos: 127





	1. Chapter 1

She had never been so hungry in either of her two lives. 

In her first, she had done quite well for herself, working with her friend Anathema and making enough to get by in her small town in rural England. 

She'd been a medicine woman, along with the witch she had grown up with, who sold her services as a soothsayer in addition to herbal remedies and the occasional potion.

Anathema made the potions. Anthonia had always been better with concrete solutions. 

In the beginning of her second life, Samael had called her a security risk and a threat. He hadn't let her leave the camp, and had ensured that one of his many followers kept her stomach full and thirst quenched. 

But Samael was gone. Along with the rest of the group, and Anthonia was alone in a _very_ unfamiliar situation. 

Even after being abandoned, she hadn't been this hungry. She'd tried to return home, and that was when The _Accident_ had ensued and she had fled. 

It was a terrible accident, but it had kept her stomach from growling. 

Now she had no such luck. Anthonia Jay Crowley had fled the small village she had grown up in, still soaked in blood, and hidden herself far away in the woods. 

She told herself it was so that they would never find her, but she knew it was more important _she_ never find _them._

And now, she had happened upon a cottage that was _not_ supposed to be there. It had been several days, maybe a week, since she had run from the village in her torn and bloody dress while Anathema shouted after her, and she couldn't ignore how _hungry_ she was anymore. 

Hungry felt different. It didn't just feel empty like it used to, it felt feral and fierce and brought to mind the idea of a hunter stalking his prey as she crept forwards, hidden in the long grass, towards the pen full of sheep this cottage had to offer. 

There was no moon to reveal what she was doing, and Anthonia was getting desperate. She had a feeling she _couldn’t_ go without feeding for much longer, or something _worse_ than starvation would follow. 

Another accident. 

She had to do it. It was the sheep or the life of whoever lived in this cottage, Crowley had no choice. 

She glanced around, again grateful for her newfound ability to see clearly despite her dark surroundings, and hopped over the gate that surrounded the sheep. 

She could _smell_ the warm, iron-sweet scent of their blood, practically _taste_ their pusles in the back of her throat. She _had_ to eat. People were in danger if she didn't. 

The sheep didn't seem bothered by her presence. They stared up at her as she took a deep breath through her nose, let the smell settle into every sense she had. 

She _had_ to do this. 

Without a word, she lunged at a sheep, who was too surprised by her action to manage to flee, bared her teeth sharp as razors and tore out its throat. 

The burning in her _own_ throat finally began to sate as she gulped down mouthfuls of the blood that spilled from the wound she had made. 

It wasn’t _enough._ She drank down every drop of blood she could get in her mouth as it pulsed from the wound, lamenting what spilled onto her dress and went to waste, but it wasn’t _enough._ Her thirst was unabated, it took mere moments from when she laid the carcass down for her throat to begin its insatiable burning again. 

She could have wept, if instincts she didn’t know she _possessed_ hadn’t grabbed a hold of her.

The sheep were wary of her now, but from the way they skittered away only to come closer, Anthonia had the feeling they were very accustomed to people in their pen. 

It made them easy prey. 

When the burning in the back of her throat was finally soothed, three more sheep lay dead at Anthonia’s feet.

She knew she should feel guilty, staring at the carcasses she had felt, but all she could feel was an immense sense of relief washing over her. The world seemed softer, less sharp and precise and angry around her now that she had eaten. The cool night’s breeze blew her red hair around her face, some of it stuck in the blood smeared and streaked on her cheeks and lips and chin. 

But her stomach was finally full, her unending thirst finally sated. She took a deep breath, found the smell of blood in the air far more bearable now that she was no longer starving. 

Now that she was fed, her exhaustion hit her harder than before. She’d been running for days, making sure that _if_ someone had followed her into the woods they would have lost her by now, taking the shortest rests she could manage. With the black cloak she had snuck from her home just _minutes_ before the accident, she didn’t have to hide all day, only when the sun _faced_ her.

But now, miles away and well fed, Crowley needed a real rest. She’d been on her feet for days and she needed to stop. To lay down somewhere and close her eyes. She could re-evaluate once she had slept. 

With that in mind, she left the animals where they had dropped, and climbed back over the fence the owner of the cottage had built, probably to keep their sheep safe from a predator like Crowley. 

Only a fence wouldn’t keep out a _vampire._ Not much would. 

Crowley stumbled off into the woods, in search of a cool, dark place to hide through the day and get her rest. She was certain she left an obvious trail, but when she found herself a bit of an overhanging cave to hide in, she was more certain no human was foolish enough to follow the trail into it. They would assume she was a wolf or a bear and set traps, but wouldn’t confront her themself. Crowley could work with that. She crept into the cave, made sure she wasn’t interrupting anyone else's sleep or invading someone’s space, and settled herself against the back wall. After how far she had run in just a few days, and everything she had been through recently without the chance of a proper sleep, Anthonia was asleep the moment her eyes closed, leaned against the back wall of the cave, cloak settled on her lap and hat sitting askew on her head.

That was how she was still laying when she awoke to someone standing over her. “So you’re the one who killed my sheep.”

A. Zira Fell, or Zira, as she preferred to be called, didn’t have many people in her life to _call_ her Zira. 

She supposed you could call her a recluse, living all by herself, in a cottage she had built in the woods. 

It wasn’t like she _couldn’t_ be around other people, she just chose not to. She _liked_ humans in _theory,_ but found that living among them was tiring and annoying. They were incredibly judgemental, and Zira didn’t particularly care for their attitudes. 

Besides, if you _lived_ in human society, you were expected to _contribute_ to human society. Zira _did_ have a flock of sheep, and she loved to knit, but that didn’t do much to support her. 

Especially since she wasn’t willing to _butcher_ the sheep. They were her flock, and it was her job to keep them _safe._ Not to slaughter them and carve them up for profit.

And so, Zira had very nearly cut herself off from every part of civilization. She went to town markets on occasion, traded knitted goods for new books for her collection, and apart from that, kept herself well separated from the rest of civilization. 

Zira was rather proud of how well she had settled into her home. She had a lovely garden full of vegetables she grew all summer to keep stocked for the winter, a couple of traps set up to catch game for herself. She didn’t eat her sheep, but certain parts of her kept her from a vegetarian diet, and her traps did well for her. 

If ever they _didn’t,_ it wasn’t as though Zira was not a skilled hunter, although no one would ever want to _purchase_ something she had caught herself from a market.

Hunting like that was, of course, more effective during the full moon. Much of Zira’s life _was_ more productive and busy during the full moon. That was the reason why she was having a nice read-in with one of her favourite books, curled up in her armchair, that night. 

The moon was nowhere to be seen, lit face pointed entirely away from the earth. Zira frequently had little energy on the new moon, and was typically happy to spend them indoors with her knitting or reading. 

She even came to enjoy her quiet nights in, which she partook in once a month, according to the lunar calendar, with no noise to be heard but the braying of the lambs and the bird Zira kept in her home, Sunshine. 

Zira was happy with her life. She’d been living it for nearly five hundred years now, so she supposed that was a good thing. She certainly hoped if she _didn’t_ enjoy what she did, she would have found something else to do by now. 

But on this particular new moon, something kept her from relaxing. Zira wasn’t _entirely_ nocturnal, and it wasn’t uncommon for her to doze off in the plush armchair on these particularly lazy nights. 

Only she couldn’t sit still, and she didn’t know why. She had glanced out her kitchen window at her flock several times, but hadn’t seen anything amiss. She couldn’t understand what was keeping her on high alert. 

With an irritated sigh, she set her book to the side yet again, and made her way back to the kitchen. 

She thought she saw a flash of something red outside, but it was gone before Zira could get a good look at it, and she figured it was likely just an animal in the woods. A fox, maybe. Her fence was high enough to keep the foxes out of her sheeps’ pen, but if there _was_ a fox stalking around her property, maybe that would explain why she couldn’t stay still and relax. 

Zira, being a wolf herself, didn’t find foxes to be much of a threat. Normally just her smell was enough to keep them away from her yard, and she could _easily_ send one running if she had to. 

She only wished her mind would _listen_ to her on that fact. The wolf made herself a new cup of tea, dug a pastry she had indulged in last time she was in the village out of her cabinet. 

She sat down with her book again, but despite knowing about the fox, she still didn’t settle for the rest of the night. 

The sun was just rising when Zira couldn’t sit still for any longer. Her tea, untouched, was cold, and she set it to the side, placed the pastry back into the cabinet. 

The moon last night, which hadn’t been there, had not allowed for much night vision, even for a werewolf. Zira was startled to spot a streak of something dark on the stone wall of her fence, near where she _thought_ she had seen the fox last night. 

She threw on her coat and stepped outside to investigate.

Instantly, the stench of death and blood hit her nose. She ran for the sheep’s pen, hopping over the fence and immediately since _where_ the smell was coming from. 

Sometime during the night of the new moon, when Zira’s senses were dullest, something had snuck into the sheep’s pen and slaughtered four of her sheep. 

That was upsetting enough. Worse, was that whatever had done it _hadn’t_ eaten them. It hadn’t been a starving animal, or something that made sense. 

Each of the dead sheep had their throats torn open, and that was the only wound on their bodies. There was blood on the grass where they had been killed, more on the stone wall, where the vicious creature had fled.

Peering close to the wall, Zira saw a _handprint_ in the blood. 

A _human_ had done this to her flock. 

Seething with rage, Zira didn’t pause a moment to clean up the pen. The sheep would wait, she peered over the stone fence and saw that there was a trail of blood and broken branches leading into the woods. 

The foolish human who had slain Zira’s sheep for _fun_ had left a trail. Zira climbed back over the fence, took a deep breath, and caught the scent of blood, _not_ sheep’s blood, a faint whiff of _death_ that led further into the woods. 

Most of all, she smelled decay. Not of an animal, like walking into a long-abandoned house, with crumbling walls and moth-eaten linens. Dirt, mildew, a sort of sweet rot that clung to everything that went near it. 

And from the way the smell led down the trail the killer had left, Zira knew she was smelling what the killer smelled like. 

She hurried down the trail. The killer hadn’t bothered to go far, the human likely believed Zira would write the attack off to a wild animal and not bother to investigate, but Zira loved her sheep. 

She would have her answers. 

A _human_ would have called it quits when the trail led her to the mouth of a small cave. It was stupid and reckless for a human to go into a cave, with no telling what hid inside, but Zira wasn’t a human. She was a wolf, and she wasn’t afraid of a cave-dweller. 

And she _knew_ it wasn’t a wild animal in that cave. A wild animal wouldn’t have left a handprint in the blood left behind. 

So she walked into the cave, letting her eyes adjust to the dark. 

The smell of rot and decay got stronger the further into the cave she went. It was sweet and not-unpleasant, with the sharp tang of blood mingled in.

The culprit was asleep in the very back of the cave, leaned up against the stone wall. 

Zira had expected a foolish young man with a flashy knife, or something of the sorts. 

That was _not_ what she found in the back of the cave.

Snoring softly was a human, a couple decades old at least, head tipped back against the stone and a little to the side. It wore a white blouse that was now filthy with blood, a long black skirt, and it had a cloak folded over its lap. 

Its face and hands were smattered in thousands of freckles, hidden away under the blood that caked almost every inch of its skin. Zira had no doubt she was staring at the sleeping killer. 

The human had bright, copper-red curls, twisted into a very messy braid that hung from its left shoulder. 

Zira was confused, until she saw the double crescent moon bite on the right side of the human’s neck, and caught a glimpse of long, sharp eye teeth barely hidden within its half-open mouth. 

Everything made sense.

It wasn’t a _human_ who had killed her sheep, torn their throats. She didn’t doubt if she ran back to the pen, she would find that the slain beast would be drained of blood. 

A _vampire_ had killed her sheep. 

Zira knew a lot about vampires. They gave supernatural beings a bad reputation amongst the humans. They hunted humans, often lacked subtlety, they were the _most_ often caught after witches, who were truly far less of a menace and more of a learned, inherited condition. 

Last night, this red-haired vampire with snow-white skin and freckles across every inch of its skin had killed and drank the blood from four sheep. 

Zira knew that next time this vampire feasted, it could easily be on a human. Really, in the name of protecting the village the werewolf liked to visit, she should destroy this creature before it had a chance to attack anything else. 

But something about that plan gave her pause. Everytime she looked back at the vampire, how peacefully it slept against the cave wall, with no idea what stood over it, the more she hesitated. 

She continued to debate with herself until she saw the vampire’s golden eyes flick open and stare up at her, and the creature braced itself a little further against the cave wall, eyes widening as she gazed at Zira.

The werewolf had no choice now. Destroying a sleeping vampire was easy. A vampire who was _awake,_ however, was a lot harder. 

She was going to have to feel this situation out. “So you’re the one who killed my sheep.”


	2. Chapter 2

"I can explain!" 

The young woman- vampire- leapt to her feet, scrambled even further against the wall of the cave. Zira noticed she was barefoot, which she found unusual considering the woman _had_ a cloak and hat. She had dirt and blood caked under her finger and toenails, scrapes and bruises on her feet. "I can explain- I- I can pay for the sheep just- you have to- I don't want-"

"You won't hurt me, vampire," Zira said flatly, glaring at the woman. "I'm no human you can easily subdue. And I'm not a sheep, waiting helplessly for slaughter!"

"I didn't mean to!" The woman cried, throwing her arms up in front of her face as Zira took a step forward. "I- I couldn't help it- I-" 

"You didn't _mean_ to slaughter four of my sheep? You _destroyed_ them and didn’t even have the decency to clean up after yourself! Where are the rest of you?" Zira demanded, glaring at her. 

The woman, who, when Zira looked passed the blood was really quite pretty. She had a hooked nose, big bright yellow eyes and copper hair. She was freckled and sharp featured and she genuinely seemed terrified to be near Zira. "There are no others!" 

"Vampires travel in covens. I'm _not_ a fool, vampire," Zira said, narrowing her eyes. "And there's no way _you_ ate four of my sheep in one night."

"They left me behind! I've- I've been trying to get away from town I- I didn't mean to find your cottage and- and I- I-"

Zira paused, frowned a bit. "Your coven left you?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just up and left?" 

The vampire nodded. 

_That_ was certainly strange. Vampires formed covens, normally led by one who had turned most of the other members. It wasn't like them to leave a member behind. 

Vampires didn't leave loose ends. They stuck close together. They didn’t leave someone behind. If someone didn’t make the journey to the next hiding spot with them, they were normally left behind as a pile of ashes. 

They had enough to worry about, in terms of getting caught, without leaving a vampire behind. So why had they left this one? 

“I’m sorry about your sheep- I- I can-” the vampire dug a hand into her pocket, came back with a few dried leaves and a couple of copper coins. “That’s not enough- but it’s all I have, I’m _sorry_ I didn’t mean to do it I just hadn’t eaten since I left town and-” 

“When did you leave town?” 

“About five days ago. I’ve been trying to get away, I don’t want to be near them, I don’t want to hurt anyone and I don’t want to hurt you and-”

“You won’t hurt me. I’m not a human like the ones in town. Our kinds have been equally matched since our creation. I assure you, you wouldn’t be the first vampire my jaws tore limb from limb.”

The threat finally seemed to register with the vampire pressed against the cave wall. “Please don’t- I- I can be off, I won’t bother you again, I truly am sorry about your flock I _tried_ to just move on, I really did! I’ve never even hunted anything before, unless you count the odd rabbit back before all of this! Ana always needed them for talismans and-”

“They didn’t teach you to hunt.”

It was absolutely appalling. Zira had no love for vampires, brutal, savage creatures that they were, but that was unlike their kind. They taught the newborns to hunt, they travelled in covens, much like Zira’s kind was _supposed_ to live in packs, although she’d always preferred her solitude, and they didn’t leave loose ends. 

So why had they left this one? “How long have you been undead?”

The vampire was quiet for a moment. “I- I don’t know. A… a bit before I ran into the woods? Maybe… maybe a week? They kept me in a tent, didn’t really tell me how many days passed… I tried to go outside once, when they were asleep, but the sun was so bright, it hurt my eyes, burned my hand-” 

“You’re a vampire. You can’t _go_ in the sun.” 

“No one told me. No one warned me. They _mocked_ me when they saw my burns but they didn’t _teach_ me anything, they just kept me in the tent and then one day while I was asleep they _left._ I woke up in the shade under a number of trees, it was like they had never been there!” 

The young vampire, the _newborn,_ Zira should say, was clearly terrified and confused. She’d be dropped in the middle of this situation with no one to help her. “What’s your name, vampire?”

“Crowley. A- Anthonia Crowley. I’m from the village just over that way,” the vampire, Crowley, pointed west, to where Zira _knew_ there was a village, although she had never been there. “I’m just trying to get away, I don’t want to be around anyone I don’t want to hurt anyone! I’m a medicine woman!” 

“Not anymore, you’re not.” 

“What are _you?”_ Crowley asked, suddenly curious. “You smell like Adam’s pet dog.” 

That did make sense. Anthonia Crowley smelled like blood and decay, and Zira supposed that she smelled like a wolf. It was what kept the foxes away from her flock. 

“I’m a werewolf,” she said. 

Crowley immediately seemed more wary of her. “A werewolf that keeps a flock of sheep? I guess you don’t go hungry-”

“I _don’t_ eat the sheep. That, apparently, is what _you_ do. I keep my flock safe. Apparently, I have to worry about rogue _vampires_ as well as foxes.” 

Crowley cringed. “I told you, I didn’t mean to! I just- I had to eat _something_ I could barely _think_ anymore, I’d been running for days and days it’s the only reason I even stopped! I wasn’t going to stay anywhere near you! I don’t want to be near other people!” 

Zira’s heart couldn’t help but soften, just a little bit. This young vampire had been abandoned by the people who turned her, left her for dead or to be caught by the humans. She was scared, she didn’t know what to do and she had done the honourable thing, tried to get away from her village so no one got hurt. 

Zira supposed that as upset about her sheep as she was, she had to admit this undead creature had done her best to avoid causing any damages. A farmer would miss a couple of sheep, but not the way they would miss a child if Crowley had hunted down a _person._

“Come with me. I don’t need you to replace my sheep, they breed in the springtime. You didn’t get any of the lambs. You can help me clean up the mess you made to make up for the damage.”

Crowley’s yellow eyes peered passed Zira and out the mouth of the cave. “I can’t go anywhere right now,” she said, pointing at the brightly lit sky. “The sun is out.” 

She did have a point. Even with her cloak, it would be difficult to get her out of the cave and back to the cottage, and she _certainly_ couldn’t clean up a mess that was outside in the pens right now. 

“Fine. Just- go back to sleep. I’ll wait here and we can bring you back to the cottage when the sun sets.”

“Why do you want to bring me to your cottage?”

“I can’t leave you in the woods, half a mile from another town, in good conscience. You’re a _vampire._ You’ll kill a child just as easily as you butchered my sheep. You can stay in my cottage until we figure out where you _can_ go.”

Anthonia Crowley was absolutely positive her new acquaintance wouldn’t be _half_ as friendly if she found out about The Accident that had chased her from her village. 

The wolf had _told_ her to go back to sleep, but she couldn’t bring herself to close her eyes again, not knowing she was being watched. 

“How long have you- when… how long have you lived in these woods?” She asked, looking up at the wolf, scratching subconsciously at the deep bite Samael had left on the right side of her throat. 

She pulled her fingers back when she realized they were bloody. Stared at them in shock. “I-”

The wolf sighed. “You just ate. You can bleed. At the moment, it’s the sheep’s blood. The more your body _breaks down_ what you just ate, the less you’ll bleed. You _wouldn’t_ have been bleeding yesterday, if you were really as hungry as you said you were.”

Crowley frowned. “Why do you know so much about… us?” She asked, licking the blood off her fingers, scraping it out from under her long fingernails. 

It tasted just the same as it had the day before. The wolf wrinkled her nose. “I was part of a pack, once, about five hundred years ago. We took care of _your kind_ when they threatened humans. I haven’t just seen a vampire bleed, I’ve _made_ one bleed. As I said before, Crowley, you wouldn’t be the first of your kind I dealt with, if you made me.”

Crowley wondered how clear she could make it that she was terrified, that this wolf didn’t have to keep threatening her. She understood the danger she was in, she understood what the wolf would do if she knew about The Accident, or if she thought Crowley was a risk to anyone who lived around here.

Or, possibly, if she attacked any more sheep. “Who are you?” Crowley asked, suddenly realizing that she had been invited back to a cottage but didn’t know this wolf’s name. 

“Oh, right. A. Zira Fell. Call me Zira.” 

Crowley nodded. “Do- do you know many covens?” She asked, eyes wide. “I- I’ve never seen another one-”

“You wouldn’t have. The covens don’t make themselves known to humans, unless the human _dies._ They’ve slaughtered entire villages because they’ve been found out. The moment you _met_ a vampire and _knew_ you had, they were either going to kill you or turn you,” Zira replied, “only, I can’t fathom _why_ they would have turned you if they didn’t _want_ you to be a part of their coven. They _should_ have just killed you.”

“Samael was going to. He- he told me that- he told me I _convinced_ him otherwise. He- I don’t remember what he did, I thought I was dying and then… then I woke up in a tent and I was _hungry_ and- and someone brought-”

 _“Samael_ turned you?” Zira cut Crowley off before she could finish her tale, narrowing her startling grey eyes. “I didn’t know Samael’s coven was in the area. I _should_ have known they were in the area. They’ve caused plenty of problems in the past. And they just left you behind, where you could get caught? I guess maybe they thought you would be caught and destroyed and never connected to-”

“Can you please stop talking about someone destroying me! I don’t even know what’s going on right now! I’m not trying to be a threat! I didn’t even know what was happening, I _begged_ for my life! I thought I _died_ and then I woke up with these teeth and starving for blood!” Crowley cried, finally gathering up her courage to _move_ away from the cave wall, taking a large sidestep so Zira was no longer pinning her against the stones. 

Zira seemed to consider that. “Fair enough. But I _do_ imagine that’s what Samael expected to happen to you when he left you behind. You’re a liability to leave behind if they think you’ll be connected back to them.” 

Crowley supposed that much did make sense. If people didn’t really know about vampires, if they certainly didn’t know _where_ the vampires were at any given time, then the moment she had met Samael in the woods that first night, when he had asked her to come back the next night, told her he had _answers_ for her if she came back the next night, the night he’d torn into her throat and drained the blood from her bloody while she cried and struggled and fought against the rising drowsiness the longer he drank from her until she had finally succumbed to the black wave. 

She had thought she would never wake up again, but she _had._ Her eyes had opened and everything had been strange and new, but it didn’t make sense that Samael had turned her and then left her behind. 

“I _am_ sorry about your sheep, Zira. I didn’t mean to kill them, I didn’t mean to attack them,” she explained, staring up at the wolf. 

The wolf had fluffy white-blonde hair, wore a blue dress shirt and cream waistcoat, tan trousers and a cream coat. She had grey eyes, a soft face. 

She didn’t _look_ like a wolf. Not right now. But Crowley remembered the darkness of the night before, the absence of the moon, and figured that was explained. 

“I guess I’d rather you attacked my sheep than a person, like you might have if you had gone a half-mile north. There’s a village I go to when I need supplies that way.”

Crowley picked at her fingernails, finding more blood caught under her fingernails. She was _covered_ from head to toe in blood, she knew that much. 

Zira sighed. “Put your cloak on, the sun will be behind us for a little longer yet. We should get you to the cottage, get you in a bath. You look a fright, and you smell like dead sheep.”

“Dog is no rose, either,” Crowley murmured, swinging her cloak over her shoulders and pulling the hood up over her head. 

Zira shot her a look, and Crowley fell quiet, making sure the cloak covered her hands and feet, and her face was shaded by the hood. She would _quickly_ find out if she had missed a spot. The burns faded relatively fast, she couldn’t see them on her hand anymore, but they came on quickly. 

Zira followed her out of the cave, where she stepped cautiously out into the open air and found that she was properly covered up. The brightness still hurt her eyes, but she let her feet lead her back down the path through the woods she had taken away from Zira’s cottage. 

The sheep were still lain where she had left them, flies beginning to buzz around their eyes and mouths and crawling in the wounds she had left in their throats. 

Zira didn’t say anything about the sheep, just led her into the warmly lit cottage and straight passed the kitchen, small lounge and into the bath. 

The wolf closed the curtains in the window in that room. It feel into darkness, but Crowley’s eyes appreciated it more than the light. 

“Take those filthy clothes off, give them to me and I’ll get them washed. You can wear something of mine until they’re dry, you’re _not_ going to walk around my home all soaked in blood. I think the first thing you need to learn is how to be a less messy eater.” 


	3. Chapter 3

It hadn’t been that long since Crowley had bathed, her long, copper hair collected dirt and grime and she tried to do so regularly. It really had only been the two weeks since she’d been home. 

Still, the hot water was absolutely  _ everything _ she needed the second she stepped foot in it. 

She knew she  _ needed _ a bath. She was covered from head to toe in blood, from when  _ she _ had been bitten and every time she’d eaten since then.

She was surprised all Zira could smell was the sheep's blood. Or maybe the wolf was mistaking the blood from The Accident for Crowley's own blood, running down the entire right side of her torso. 

Either way, Crowley was grateful. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if her host found out about what had happened back in the village. 

But Crowley didn’t want to worry about that right now. It felt good to lean back in the hot water, to soak her tired feet and aching muscles. She hadn’t realized how much stress she had put on herself until she was truly offered a chance to relax. Every bone in her body ached, she was starting to feel the fact that she had been running for the last five days. 

All the while that she sat in the tub, blood sluiced off her skin in red-tinged currents. She scrubbed it away from her pale skin - had she always been so pale? - and out of her hair, away from her mouth and the bite on the side of her throat that was rather sore.

When she had scrubbed the blood from her skin, her eyes slowly fell closed, the hot water lulling her back to sleep. Zira had woken her before she’d finished her well-deserved rest, after all, and she was meant to be nocturnal. It was far too bright for her to be awake now that she was safe. 

Zira wanted her to help clean up the sheep pen that night. She needed her rest. 

“Anthonia, you’ll catch a chill, if vampires can do so. You’ve been in there a few hours, the water can’t be hot anymore.”

Zira’s voice started Crowley out of her sleep. 

She was right, the water was cold now, a red film around the edge of the tub where the water tapered off. Crowley quickly scrubbed it away, and off of her skin where she hadn’t been submerged, then stood. “Have you got a towel? I don’t want to make a mess,” she said, pulling the plug on the tub. 

“Beside you, on the shelf,” Zira replied. 

All of Zira’s towels were a nice cream colour, although the one Crowley used was mostly pink by the time she had dried the water from her hair and skin. She felt bad, but surely Zira would have known that was coming. 

“There’s a robe just outside the door, I’m busy trying to get the bloodstains out of your blouse. You need to stop wearing white if you’re going to be such a sloppy eater.” 

“I guess I could just dye it blood red, it wouldn’t be a problem, then. Wouldn’t even be able to tell!” Crowley pushed the door open and pulled the fluffy cream bathrobe on. 

She felt much better now that she wasn’t covered in blood. Zira had gone around the cottage while she was asleep and closed all the curtains, which she was grateful for. Her eyes were much more sensitive now. She couldn’t handle the bright sunlight that she used to love. 

Zira held up Crowley’s formerly white blouse, which was quite determinedly coloured a shade of pink now, the splatter of blood still visible down the front. “You might have to. I don’t think this is coming out. I’ll have to make you a new shirt out of one of mine. I’m  _ not _ taking you anywhere near town just yet, so you’ll have to deal with my tailoring skills.” 

Crowley couldn’t help but feel grateful that Zira didn’t want to take her to town. She didn’t want to go anywhere near anyone either. 

She didn’t want to put anyone in danger. Not again. “I guess for now I should just wear this robe?” 

Zira had wider shoulders than Crowley, a stockier frame. The nightgown slipped off Crowley’s shoulders, and could have probably wrapped at least more than once around Crowley’s chest, but she did her best to keep herself covered. 

“I’m a wolf, Anthonia, not a miracle worker. You’re going to have to wear that until I get your skirt dry and fix a shirt for you,” Zira replied, throwing the blouse back into the tub. “And I’m turning  _ that _ into a rag. It’s done. You  _ really _ need to stop wearing white.”

“You’ve mentioned that,” Crowley agreed, although she had rather liked that blouse and wished it didn’t have to be thrown away. “Thank you for all of your help, Zira. I- I don’t know what I would have done if I got left alone-”

“You would have killed someone. I know your kind well enough to know what you would have done. I’ve fought your kind over what you do. This isn’t just a favour to you, I’m protecting the village I like to go to,” Zira said, pulling Crowley’s black skirt out of the washing tub and wringing it out. 

She walked with it to the door, looked over at Crowley. “You should be good, the sun is behind the house now,” she said, “but you are standing where the light  _ would _ be if there was any, so be careful.” 

Crowley took a large step to the left, and Zira pulled the door open to go hang Crowley’s skirt on the line. The light didn’t bother her as much as it could have, the sun was slowly making its descent now, but it was still unpleasant. 

Zira stepped back into the house. “You look a lot better when you don’t look like you bathed in blood.” 

“Maybe Elizabeth Bathory had a point with her facials. Do I look youthful and glowey?”

“I didn’t know you  _ before _ you were immortal and covered in blood, Anthonia. Besides, Elizabeth Bathory didn’t bathe in sheep’s blood. She used the blood of virgin girls. You  _ didn’t _ do that, I assume.” 

Crowley’s voice caught in her throat, she fought to say anything. 

It hadn’t been a little girl, anyways. But there was one occurrence that Zira didn’t know about. “I- I’m unmarried, and I was covered in my own blood, does that count?”

Zira contemplated that. “No, I don’t think that would count. But nice try on the facial. You just look like less of a mess without all the blood all over you. Now come here, let me take some measurements and I can try to get you some new clothes soon. I still do want you to help clean up the sheep’s pen, and I don’t think you’re going to want to help me dressed in a bathrobe, although you might have to. It’s going to take a while for your skirt to dry, and I can’t sew everything in no time.” 

Crowley nodded. “Makes sense,” she agreed, pulling the shoulder of the nightgown back up onto her shoulder. “So what do you do here all day, Zira? I thought wolves travelled in packs, you seem to be all alone!” 

“And vampires travel in covens, Anthonia.”

“Did you get left behind as well?” Crowley asked, golden eyes going wide. “You pack didn’t want you, and that’s why you took pity on me?”

Zira bristled without even meaning to. “No. My pack didn’t leave me, I left them. I wanted some peace and quiet. They come and check in on me every once in a while, I wanted out of the hierarchy. This is by choice. I built this cottage, and I choose to stay here.” 

She looked around the cottage, followed Crowley’s gaze as it raked across the small kitchen, the sitting room full of bookshelves, the spindle tucked away into the corner with a basket of various dyed wools underneath it. “It’s a nice place,” she said, teeth biting at her lip. “Do you just spin wool and read and tend your sheep all day?” 

Zira considered that. “For the most part, yes. I have a garden, as well, a few other things to tend to, but that is largely what I do. It’s more stimulating than you think, I have quite a number of excellent books-”

“I don’t know how to read or write,” Crowley said, tone flat. “Ana had the books, she taught me to recognize herbs and make ointments and stuff but I could never focus on the letters and other stuff. I’m good with pictures, but I can’t make sense of little letters. They get all jumbled up, Ana finally gave up trying to teach me when we were still young. It hurt my head. She said I wouldn’t be the first woman to get by without reading, nor the last.” 

That surprised Zira. “You can’t read?”

“I can recognize letters, sometimes get some simple words, but reading an entire book is out of the question. It’s too hard on my eyes and my head aches when I try. It’s not for lack of trying,” she explained. 

Even nowadays, it wasn’t  _ uncommon _ for young women to not be taught to read and write. Zira herself had been illiterate when she was young, before she’d been bitten. She’d been taught around the same time as the rest of the pack, and now it seemed foreign for a woman who was going to live forever, in a time when being educated was becoming more and more common for both sexes, to be unable to read or write her own name. 

“So what did you used to do all day then, if you didn’t read?” Zira asked. She went over to one of the baskets near her spindle and pulled out a string to take measurements with. “Hold your arms out and stand straight,” she instructed, and took careful note of how much she was going to need to alter one of her own shirts or pairs of trousers to fit the vampire. 

“I told you, I worked with a witch as a medicine woman.”

“A witch?” Zira repeated, blinking. “You worked with a witch and you didn’t know anything about vampires?”

“I guess I never really  _ believed _ her, Zira. She  _ told _ me she was a witch, and she could do a couple of funny things that didn’t seem natural, but it always seemed a little far-fetched that she was an  _ actual _ witch, so I didn’t believe her,” Crowley replied, “and she mostly left the supernatural out of what she got me to help her with. I dealt with sprains and broken bones and minor illnesses, stuff that could be dealt with in non-occult fashion. I did know she read tarot cards for people if they asked, but that was the extent of it.” 

Zira nodded. “Well, I would assume if she made occult cures for various illnesses, she was an actual witch.”

“She said she was a descendant of Agnes Nutter. Had a book about it and everything.”

“She had a copy of  _ The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch _ ?” Zira asked excitedly, eyes going wide. “Oh, when you’re well-adjusted to this new life of yours you must introduce us! I’ve been searching for a copy of that for centuries!” 

“Right.” Crowley sounded nervous, and quickly changed the topic. “So, why sheep?” 

“I like to knit,” Zira replied, letting the vampire drop the subject. She probably hadn’t thought about her old friends since going on the run, had no idea that after she got herself under control it would be  _ very _ possible for her to return to her village and catch up with the young witch, if she so chose. “And I needed something to do, something to tend to. A farmer had a lamb he was looking to get rid of, it wasn’t big enough to bother keeping, probably wouldn’t have made it through the summer, so I offered to buy it from him. She’s still a member of my flock to this day. After a while I got a couple more ewes, and when someone had a young ram they couldn’t keep, I took him too. I have that one ram who stays in there, he’s very sweet and doesn’t cause any problems with the lambs, and a couple of breeding ewes. I find good homes for the lambs I don’t keep each year, and mostly have them for wool. Besides, perhaps looking after a flock is something that comes naturally to me.”

Crowley snorted. “I thought you were a wolf, not a sheepdog!” She laughed. 

“I am, but the wolf-like habit would be rather similar to what you did to my sheep last night, and that’s not why I keep them,” Zira said simply, “now, what colours do you like?” 

“I don’t wear many colours. We made ointments and potions, not fabric dyes,” Crowley replied. 

“Well, I’m certainly not dressing you in white again, so I’ll just have to go look for an old shirt I don’t wear and won’t be sad if you get blood all over it again.”

"That does make sense, I don't think white is my colour anymore," Crowley agreed, taking a seat after Zira stopped measuring her and headed for the bedroom. 

She rifled through her drawers, finally pulled out an old pink shirt and brought it out into the living room. "You'll probably need another skirt, too. I prefer trousers, but… I should have a skirt I can take in for you."

"I've never worn trousers before. Bit of a traditional village I lived in, most of the women didn't even work, never mind wear trousers or stuff like that. Besides, I like skirts," Crowley admitted, pausing to pull the nightgown back up on her shoulder. 

She really did seem to be swimming in Zira's nightgown, and Zira went and pulled out her needles, pins and thread. "So, you're a medicine woman? Can you sew or knit? That's a lot of what I do here, how I pay for what I have to get from town." 

"I can crochet, and my mother taught me to sew before she passed, but I was never very good with the needle and thread. I mostly sewed my fingertips into whatever I was trying to do," Crowley replied, "Anathema didn't care for sewing either, so she never stressed it."

It was seeming more and more to Zira that while Crowley had clearly grown up somewhere with traditional values, she had a wide and varied amount of talents that didn't line up with that upbringing. 

"Well, crochet will work as well as knitting. Now, I'll try to get this shirt finished for you before we go out and clean up the pen. I  _ am  _ holding you to that, you can't just slaughter my sheep and get away with it." 


	4. Chapter 4

Zira fell so fast she didn’t even get to pretend to keep her dignity. 

She told herself and Crowley, and Sunshine, when the bird would listen to her and not peep like she knew better, and her flock of sheep that Crowley was only staying until another coven was in the area. A vampire should be with her own kind, who would _properly_ teach her to hunt and how their species survived. All Zira could do was bring Crowley some of what her traps caught so the newborn wouldn’t end up as hungry as she had when she’d attacked Zira’s sheep, and keep the curtains in whatever room Crowley was sitting or sleeping in closed during the day. 

Vampires were nomadic. They moved where hunting was good, for the most part, they lived in tents and other suck portable homes, made of thick black canvas that kept the sun out while they slept. Zira’s linen curtains blocked the light well enough that no more burns appeared on Crowley’s pale, exposed skin, but they certainly didn’t darken things _enough._

She never complained, but Zira _saw_ the way Crowley moved, shading her eyes and holding her doubtlessly aching head. 

And Crowley was more active at _night._ Zira didn’t actually sleep much at all, and had no issues converting to a mostly-nocturnal schedule, but Crowley _thrived_ in the darkness. 

So much so that Zira realized early in; when her more wolfish features started to reappear, tall, pointed ears atop her head and a long bushy tail, as always, being the first additions; Crowley’s power waxed and waned at opposite times as Ezra’s. 

Ezra had been at her weakest when Crowley had brutalized her sheep, or she likely would have noticed the vampire. At the new moon, her powers were all but gone. She preferred to rest during that time.

Crowley was the opposite. The fuller the moon got, the more tired she became. She slept longer the closer to the full moon they got, Zira wondered if some of her inhuman abilities faded with the light the way Zira’s faded with the darkness. 

Tonight _was_ the full moon. Zira was wide awake, but her vampire houseguest was still dozing on the couch long after the sun had begun to set. 

It wasn’t _gone_ yet, Zira had a few more minutes before she would excuse herself outside. She would leave a note for her sleeping guest, but Crowley, despite Zira’s encouragement that now might be different, still struggled with letters and words. 

So she stood the the foot of the couch, hand; now covered in a layer of coarse tan fur; outstretched to shake her shoulder, and she hesitated. 

Crowley had been in the cottage two weeks, and Zira had been given her fair share of time to contemplate the vampire.

But it never got any less tempting. 

Crowley was sleeping in a loose nightgown Zira had sewn for her, nothing fancy whatsoever, just practical and soft. She had an arm thrown up over her eyes, blocking out what remained of the sun, her lovely copper hair was fanned out over the arm of the sofa. 

She was serene, sound asleep, barely moving. Her chest rose and fell, more habit than necessity, but other than that she didn’t stir. 

Zira was loathe to wake her, but she had to. When Crowley _did_ wake up, whenever that was, she would be startled if she woke up alone. 

Zira sighed, finished reaching out and gently shook Crowley’s shoulder. “Anthonia?” 

Crowley’s arm moved away from her face, one of her eyes opened, just faintly. “Zira?” 

“You can stay asleep, I know you’re tired at this time of month, but I was just letting you know that I’m going to be away for the night.” 

Crowley seemed to contemplate why before it clicked. “I can be a berserk blood-thirsty vampire around you but you don’t-”

“It’s nothing personal, Crowley. I told you I used to be a part of a pack, didn’t I? I still run with them on the full moon. You’d best stay in the cottage for the night, they don’t take as kindly to vampires as I do,” Zira explained, “I’ll see you in the morning, alright? So there’s no one here to judge if you spend the whole night sleeping, you seem worn out by the moon.” 

Crowley nodded, slowly allowed her eyes to flicker shut again, and that was when it hit Zira. 

She _wanted_ to be promising to return to Crowley on the night of the full moon. Not just this time, but every time. 

She was a lone wolf, but she _liked_ having this newborn vampire in her home. 

She didn’t _want_ Crowley to join another coven, she realized, even felt what she thought was _dread_ at the idea that another would be along shortly.

If Crowley joined a coven, she would be nomadic, just like the coven. She would leave Zira’s cottage, and no one knew _when_ she would return. And when she did she would be different, sated on blood and surrounded by her own kind. She probably wouldn’t even want to _see_ Zira again. 

She wouldn’t change _too_ much, Zira didn’t want her in danger from packs like her own, she would ensure Crowley didn’t end up a part of a coven that fed on humans, but that was such a minimal thing. 

Crowley might come back _completely_ different. Grown, well accustomed to her existence and without the want or need for Zira. 

And Zira wasn’t ready for that. She didn’t want to lose the companion she had just gained. She wanted to come home to a sleepy vampire on the full moon, to dote on her while she rested, and to not be _alone_ on the next cold, long new moon. 

Zira blinked, made herself look away from where Crowley seemed to have fallen back asleep, breathing rhythmic and even, to turn out the door. 

Perhaps if another coven hadn’t appeared before the next full moon, if Crowley was still _with_ her by then, she would stay for the full moon. Blow off the hunt, spend the night curled up beside the vampire. She could imagine herself like that, hoped her smell wouldn’t bother Crowley’s sleep if she did so. 

But for tonight she needed to go. 

She stepped out into the night, out into the rising full moon, closed her eyes, breathed in a deep, long breath, and felt her form start to ripple. 

It was natural now. She took one step with human legs, bipedal and upright, and her next would come easily, on all fours, nose to the ground. It had been awkward at first, she’d used to have to crouch down _before_ the moon hit her, but now, after as many centuries as she had spent doing this, it came easily. 

Her senses were only remotely human when there was no moon in the sky to be seen, but the moment she had shifted, everything redoubled. 

She could smell her sheep, the hundreds of creatures that had crossed her yard over the last month, and, faintly, the sweet-decay smell of the vampire sleeping within her walls. 

With that in mind, she set off from her lawn to meet up with the pack, pausing only to roll herself around in the fresh pine and undergrowth. 

If her pack _didn’t_ know Crowley was in the cottage, everything would be a lot easier. She would keep them away from her home, and keep herself from smelling like her guest. 

She stood up, shook her pelt clean of the dirt it collected while she rolled, and bolted off into the night. 

Crowley was exhausted. She didn’t really understand _why_ she was so tired, she’d gotten a lot of sleep and Zira had made sure she’d eaten lately, if only to spare her attacking more sheep, but she _was_ tired. 

Zira had said it had to do with the moon. Crowley thought that was bullshit, considering she _already_ had to spend the day inside. Now the full moon was too bright, too? 

Still, Zira didn’t seem concerned, letting her sleep the day away, only waking her to tell her when she was going out ‘with her pack.’

Crowley hadn’t realized Zira was still in _regular_ contact with a pack. 

It made her nervous, truthfully. Zira had a pack, she didn’t _need_ anyone else. She was a wolf with her pack and anyone else was an intruder. 

Crowley was _supposed_ to have a coven. Zira seemed to believe that the next coven to come to town would _gladly_ welcome her into its ranks, but Crowley didn’t want it to. 

She _liked_ Zira’s cottage, and the little yellow bird named Sunshine, the only sunshine Crowley could still look at directly. 

She didn’t want to leave, but Zira wasn’t going to want her to stay. It was painfully clear, she was only being housed here until a better option for Zira came along. 

Crowley just wished _she_ thought it was a better option, too. 

She forced herself off the couch when the moon was _high_ in the sky, wandered over to the small shelves Zira had told her she could keep her clothes in. 

She pulled out her newly-dyed blouse, now a shocking, scandalous shade of red instead of pure white. 

She didn’t bother with a corset, she didn’t particularly like them in the first place, and no one else was in the cottage, buttoned up her red blouse and pulled on her long black skirt. 

She had been told to stay inside, that was what she would do. Zira had left a rabbit with its foot still in the trap lying in the kitchen table, a clear invitation for Crowley to eat, considering she hadn’t sliced it _once_ with one of her many long, sharp butchers knives. 

Crowley could smell the blood from across the kitchen. It wasn’t _warm_ anymore, which wasn’t ideal, but she _was_ hungry, and Zira had obviously left it for her. 

She crossed the kitchen, and, careful not to spill everywhere, although it was easier when the creature was already dead, bit into the bush rabbit’s throat. 

She felt a little more awake when she was done, grabbed a dark rag and mopped up the bit of blood that dribbled onto the floor and disposed of the carcass. 

Zira had informed her that the meat really wasn’t that _good_ when Crowley had already drank the blood, so there was no sense in butchering the animals Crowley drank from. 

After she did that, she really wasn’t sure _what_ to do. 

Normally, she wasn’t confined to the cottage, and Zira was there for company. Crowley didn’t spend a lot of time alone in the cottage. 

She sat back down on the sofa where she’d been sleeping, pulled Zira’s basket of woolen yarn towards her. 

Zira had a multitude of colours, all which she dyed herself, and many balls of hand-spun yarn. Crowley wasn’t much for knitting, but she did find a hook in another basket, and she _could_ crochet. 

She wasn’t entirely sure what to make, though. Zira sold what she made in town to buy books and pastries and things she couldn’t get herself in her cottage, so surely anything would do. If Zira didn’t want it, she could sell it. 

Crowley pulled out a ball of golden-yellow yarn, found the end and got to work. 

By the time the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon and Crowley’s exhaustion came back in a sudden wave, her fingertips were feeling rather raw, the hand holding the hook was cramped, but she had quite a length of golden-yellow scarf. 

It would do for now, she was tired again. She set the yarn and hook to the side, didn’t bother to change back into her nightgown before lying down and closing her eyes. 

She didn’t wake up the way she normally would. 

The sun was still far from set when her eyes opened, and something was breathing _heavily_ on her face, hot and sort of smelly. 

She opened her eyes and saw a pair of grey wolf eyes looking down at her. 

The wolf was taller than the sofa, easily, and really did have to look down at the vampire sleeping on it. It had cream and tan fur, soft grey-green-blue eyes, and its muzzle was directly in Crowley’s face. 

_You know you can use the bed, when I’m not. Sleeping on the sofa like that can’t be comfortable._

Crowley knew the voice, although she didn’t hear it the way she was used to. It seemed to bounce around in her skull, projected directly into her head, bypassing her ears. “Zira?” 

If a wolf could smile, Crowley didn’t doubt this one would have been. _Who else would it be, Anthonia? I should hope there were no other wolves waking you up in the last day._

Crowley nodded. “Yeah, you’re the only one I know. Zira, no offense but your breath _stinks_ ,” she complained, turning her head to the side. 

_Sorry. So, you’re still tired like before?_

Crowley nodded. 

_Well, stop sleeping on the couch, you might as well use the bed. I won’t be needing it for a while. I have_ more _energy during the full moon, not less. Besides, I think it’s darker in the bedroom._

Zira didn’t have to offer a third time. The arm of the sofa was putting a crick in Crowley’s neck, and she would do _anything_ to get away from more of the sunlight filtering in through Zira’s curtains. She was surprised she had yet to wake up with burns, it felt like she would almost every day. 

She hauled herself to her feet, snagged her nightgown from where she had hung it over the side of her shelves as she walked into Zira’s bedroom. It didn’t take long to shed her red blouse and skirt and curl back up on the much more comfortable mattress, back in just the gown Zira had sewn her. 

After a few moments, something jumped up in the bed beside her. Crowley looked up, confused, and saw the wolf, Zira, who had woken her that morning up on the mattress beside her, circling a couple of times like Adam’s pet dog liked to before he laid down, and then she flopped down beside Crowley. 

“Zira?”

 _You seemed cold and lonely, I thought I might keep you company. Vampires aren’t loner creatures, either, Anthonia. It’s not good for you to be alone._

Crowley couldn’t argue with that logic, but she had other reasons, far more selfish reasons, why she stretched out and pulled her arm around Zira’s fluffy chest, ignoring the smell of dog and the tickle of wolf fur as she buried her face into Zira’s pelt. 

Crowley might have felt guilty, taking advantage of someone trying to help her, if it weren’t for the way Zira moved to curl around her that made her think maybe she wasn’t the only one that wanted her to stay in the cottage. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got some lovely fanart that I'm still not over, and decided I needed to finish this chapter for you guys, ASAP

When Crowley awoke, Zira was still there, not asleep, but not fully awake, either. One large grey eye was carefully trained on her, the other was closed. 

And she was still a huge cream-coloured wolf. When she realized that Crowley was awake, she lifted her massive head from where it rested on her paws.  _ Good evening, Crowley. Are you feeling a bit better? The moon isn’t so full tonight. _

Crowley frowned. “Then why are you still a wolf?” 

_ Because as long as the moon is almost-full and so choose to be, I will remain so. And I do so choose, because I think it’s high time you learn to hunt yourself. You’ve been undead for a month or so now, there’s no reason why you should still be dealing with the cold remains I leave you.  _

“I haven’t said anything about the cold blood,” Crowley said, immediately a little defenseless. She wasn’t an ungrateful guest, she hadn’t complained about  _ anything _ since she had arrived in Zira’s cottage. 

_ You’re right, you haven’t, but I can’t imagine it’s enjoyable. Humans cook their meat, animals tend to eat it while it’s still warm, and you’ve been getting bodies out of my traps. I can’t imagine it’s pleasant, and it’s probably partially congealed.  _

“Well, yes, that’s true, but I honestly wasn’t going to complain, Zira,” Crowley protested, “I’m very grateful for all your help.” 

_ Well then we can think of it like making you a little more independent. You have to learn to hunt, you told me you already could a little bit, now you have to learn to feed yourself. Now come out, out of bed, get yourself dressed and off we go. We only have all night, and it’s still summer, the night isn’t that long. I imagine you’ll quite prefer the winter, now.  _

“I always liked the sun,” Crowley said wistfully, “couldn’t be in it for very long, I was  _ very _ prone to sunburns, but I liked it. Now Sunshine is the only sunshine I can be near.” 

_ You’ll get used to the moon, Anthonia. Or I’ll pick you up a very dark parasol next time I go to town. We can dress you in mourning attire and tell everyone your husband just passed, and you should be fine.  _

"I never much cared for the idea of having a husband," Crowley admitted, pulling on her red blouse, petticoat and black skirt before struggling with the laces of her boots.

_ Not the marrying type?  _

"Not to a man," Crowley replied, before she was even really aware she was saying it. 

_ But to a woman, maybe?  _

Crowley blushed, cleared her throat. "A slip of the tongue, is all."

Zira looked at her funny.  _ You don't need to hide it. I've always preferred to be in the company of women.  _

"If you called me a sapphist, you wouldn't be wrong," Crowley admitted, "course, in a little village I was better off to just come off as a spinster."

_ I can rather imagine so,  _ Zira agreed,  _ now hurry up, before we waste all the remaining moonlight. I know you're tired, but I'm sure you'll feel better after you've had a real, warm meal. _

"I just ate yesterday," Crowley pointed out. "I'm a vampire, not an insatiable bloodthirsty monster. I feel fine."

Zira may have been smiling at her.  _ But did you feel better full on sheep's blood you slaughtered and ate yourself, or from what I've been bringing you?  _

Crowley faltered. "Fair point. I  _ am  _ sorry about your sheep."

_ I'm glad it was my sheep and not anything worse, Anthonia. _

Crowley didn't say anything to that. How could she? She finished lacing her boots and stood back up. "Well, let's go, make sure I spare your sheep in two weeks on the new moon," she said. 

_ Indeed, I would prefer that. There's plenty to catch in these woods.  _

“Well, you’re the expert, lead the way!” Crowley replied, leaning against the doorframe and waiting for the large cream wolf to walk passed her. 

The blood was washed out of the sheep pen, it had been Crowley’s second task, after first burying the bodies she had left behind. 

She couldn’t deny that Zira was  _ right. _ She had just eaten the night before, but when she stepped outside the first thing she could smell was the sheep, and she couldn’t deny that her mouth watered as she passed them. 

Apparently she was just extra hungry, or Zira was right and she was craving  _ warm _ blood. Her body wanted something  _ living, _ something that’s pulse she swallowed down with each mouthful.

It made her feel  _ monstrous, _ but Zira seemed to be encouraging it, so she followed the wolf outside. 

This would prevent another accident. She would learn to hunt the wild animals of the forest, and no one would ever be in danger because of her again. She wouldn’t attack anyone else’s sheep, or worse. 

_ Anthonia, tell me what you can smell, _ Zira told her, coming to a halt at the edge of the kept yard. 

“The sheep,” Crowley said honestly, because that  _ was _ the primary smell that barraged her senses. 

Zira gave her the look that Crowley still thought was a smile, the best a wolf could smile.  _ What else, Anthonia? We’re not hunting my sheep, _ she said patiently. 

“I know, Zira,” Crowley replied, “but they  _ are _ what I smell.” 

_ Close your eyes, Anthonia, just focus on what you can smell. _

“You still smell like wet dog,” Crowley replied. 

_ Very funny. Focus up, we  _ will _ run out of moonlight sooner than later. It’s still summer. _ Zira flicked her tail towards Crowley’s feet, as though to snap her into focus.

Crowley let her eyes slip closed and breathed in deeply through her nose. 

At first, she wasn’t joking. She only smelled the sheep and the strong  _ dog _ scent coming off of Zira. 

She took another breath, and this time she could smell pine and mud and-

There. To her left. It was far away, almost completely drowned out by the sheep and Zira, but there was something  _ alive. _

She didn’t know what it was, so she simply pointed in the direction it came from. 

Zira nodded.  _ There’s a doe about half a mile from us. It’s not as far as it seems when you’re hunting,  _ she agreed,  _ ready to give it a try? _

“What if I scare it off?” Crowley asked, frowning. 

_ Then we track down another. You shouldn’t have put on your boots, bare feet would help you sneak up on it. You’re going to need to be quick and careful, and keep checking the air. If the smell moves, you have to adjust, or you’re going to get there and find that your meal took off before you arrived. _

Crowley nodded, crouching down to slip out of her boots, and then took another deep breath. 

She could still smell the doe, it seemed to be in the same place. “Are you just going to follow me?” 

_I thought it was a shame to let a deer go to waste, if you can’t get it, I’ll catch it and butcher it at home._ Zira replied, getting to her feet. _You aren’t eating until you catch something yourself, so don’t think I’m going to run along behind you and snatch you something._ _This is entirely up to you._

Crowley nodded. She took a few slow, careful steps, getting used to the cool ground under her feet, and then took off into the woods, on feet she kept as silent as she could. 

Anthonia Crowley was a little too eager and a little too loud, the doe was going to hear her before she got to it, but Zira knew the best way for her to learn that was to have it happen, so she let the vampire bolt off into the woods. 

If the dawn came and Anthonia hadn’t managed to catch something yet, she would use her centuries of experience to nab something before they left. Whether or not she grasped hunting on her first try, Anthonia did deserve a warm meal. She really  _ hadn’t _ complained about only getting cold, stiff, congealed meals since the sheep two weeks ago, and it was high time she got something nice. 

Zira had  _ tried _ to bring her something warm before, but she hadn’t gotten to her traps early enough, or when she had gotten back Crowley had been fast asleep and it was midday, and not worth waking her up over. 

Zira stayed a good while behind Anthonia, letting the vampire make her way through the woods, footfalls slowly getting quieter as she seemed to realize how loud she was being. 

Maybe she would get the doe, after all. She seemed a quick learner. 

Zira tipped her head up and sniffed the air, nostrils flaring as she took in the scents of the forest. 

There was Crowley, with her musty-sweet smell of decay that clung to her, the doe, who had shifted a little, but not enough to throw off the vampire’s hunting, and something else that made her freeze for a moment when she caught scent of it. 

_ Anthonia! Stop! Stay  _ right _ where you are! _ Zira ordered, bounding over to the vampire. Her own massive paws made more noise than Crowley’s feet ever had, the doe ran away. 

“Zira?” Crowley turned to her, looking confused. “What’s wrong?” 

_ There’s another wolf in the forest. Don’t move at all, stay  _ right _ where you are, I’ll go get rid of him. He should have left after last night, I don’t know why he’s still here but I wasn’t expecting him. I don’t want him to find you here.  _

“Why not?” 

_ My pack only kills vampires that have feasted on the blood of humans, but they don’t take  _ kindly _ to any vampires. He won’t be friendly, he might even attack you to chase you off. They leave it to me to defend, but these woods are a part of their territory,  _ Zira explained. 

Zira didn’t give Anthonia the chance to argue, the vampire looked nervous enough not to follow her. 

The wolf ran towards the scent of the other wolf, pausing after she was out of Crowley’s line of sight to roll around in the pine needles and unbrush again, banishing the smell of the vampire from her pelt. 

_ Gabriel! _ She bounded up to the large, dark grey wolf with piercing violet eyes, halted in front of him.  _ I didn’t know you were still in the area, you startled me!  _

Gabriel turned to look at Zira.  _ This is  _ my _ territory, in the end, _ he pointed out,  _ it’s only on loan to you. _

He was right. Gabriel  _ was _ the alpha male of the pack, the territory Zira called her own  _ did _ belong to him.  _ Of course. I just… wasn’t expecting you. Typically you leave with the rest of the pack. _

Gabriel snorted.  _ The rest of the pack is still here, too. You didn’t tell us the coven had been through the area. _

Zira didn’t have to ask  _ which _ coven Gabriel was talking about. He  _ knew _ Samael was the vampire who had turned Anthonia. 

And Samael’s coven was the one Gabriel’s pack was normally chasing.  _ It slipped my mind. They stayed out of the village nearest to me. _

_ They killed two in a village about a week’s journey from here. There were some odd reports of one running towards our territory. And… _

Gabriel’s nose flared as he took a sniff of the air.  _ It seems one has been in these woods in the last month. _

Zira almost faltered. But Anthonia still needed shelter, the wolf couldn’t afford to betray her presence.  _ There was one in these woods,  _ she agreed,  _ killed four of my sheep on the night of no-moon. I chased it off when I had some strength back the next day. _

That answer seemed to satisfy Gabriel.  _ I see. Well, continue your work keeping the village safe. The rest of the pack and I are headed to investigate the attacks in the other village. If they left any changed ones behind, we’ll make sure to get rid of them.  _

_ Unless they haven’t fed from humans,  _ Zira interrupted, unable to stop herself.  _ We don’t hurt the ones who haven’t harmed the humans.  _

_ Right.  _ Gabriel agreed too easily, something in his answer was too shifty for Zira’s liking.  _ Tell me, Zira, why are you in the woods, anyways? You can’t be hunting, you just fed last night, with the rest of us. _

Zira glanced at her fluffy flanks.  _ I was busy catching up. Didn’t eat much. Found myself a little peckish this morning. _

Gabriel didn’t seem to believe her, but he didn’t question.  _ There’s a doe on our right, _ he offered,  _ should satisfy your appetite.  _

It was the same doe as earlier. Zira didn’t respond to Gabriel’s jab at her healthy appetite, simply nodded.  _ Of course. I’ll be off, then.  _

Gabriel walked off before Zira was even finished. 

She lifted her nose, quickly tracked down the doe, lunged at it and brought it down with one well-placed bite on its throat. 

They didn’t have time for Crowley to finish learning to hunt. Zira wanted them out of the woods as soon as possible. 

She dragged the doe back to where she had left Crowley. 

“You caught it already!” Crowley remarked. 

_ I’ll teach you to hunt another day, _ Zira said,  _ have what you’re hungry for when we get home, it will at least be warmer than normal. We need to get out of the woods. _

To her relief, Crowley didn’t argue. “I can carry that, Zira, so you don’t have to drag it around.” 

Zira thought about arguing, instead dropped the back of the doe’s neck and left Crowley lift it onto her shoulders instead. 

A steady trail of blood drops followed them back to the cottage from the open wound in the doe’s throat, but it didn’t lose too much, from what Zira could tell. 

_ I’m sorry to cut it short, Crowley. I’ll teach you to hunt as soon as I know the pack has left the area, I promise. I just want to keep you away from them. They wouldn’t approve of you staying here.  _

Crowley nodded. “Did you want some of this before I have at it? I don’t need it all, and I know they don’t make good cuts once I’ve drank the blood,” she offered, letting the body of the doe fall from her shoulders onto the ground. 

Zira thought about it. 

She hadn’t  _ exactly _ lied to Gabriel about hunting. She  _ had _ eaten the night before, but she was feeling a little peckish. 

_ I suppose we could share, if you don’t mind eating with someone who smells like wet dog, _ she offered, nosing at the doe. It did smell tempting. 

“Go ahead, I’m not going to be able to smell anything but blood,” Crowley replied, crouching down and examining the fatal bite in its neck. “You’re a very clean hunter.”

_ I have a lot of experience, _ Zira replied, _ now go on, this one is bleeding everywhere and I don’t want it in the house, so you need to be finished with it when the sun rises.  _

Crowley nodded, raised the throat of the doe off the ground, and bit down into it. 


	6. Chapter 6

Crowley was an extremely capable and  _ crafty _ hunter. 

She didn’t master what Zira was trying to teach her about moving softly and quickly, but she had  _ other _ methods. 

And they made her absolutely  _ fascinating _ to watch at work. 

She was sneaky and  _ fast, _ and she could use whatever noise her feet made to her advantage, as long as she remembered to take it into consideration. 

And she was  _ good. _ Zira had kept her promise, she had  _ yet _ to bring anything back for the vampire living in her home since the doe, and yet sometimes she would come home and find something ready for butchering waiting on the table, and some blood spatter on the floor that Crowley missed with a rag indicating that she had already eaten. 

She wasn’t _wasteful,_ Zira only found those things when her icebox was running low, but she had no issue reminding Zira of her prowess. 

She was sleeping at the moment. The curtains in the bedroom were drawn to a close, the door partially ajar, and Zira could hear her snoring ever-so-softly within. 

Zira normally found snoring irritating, but she didn’t find that about Anthonia’s. Her snoring was more like puffy breaths of air, just barely making a soft wheezing sound. 

Zira  _ liked _ the sound. Anthonia J. Crowley, of course, didn’t need to breathe anymore, but she hadn’t quite grasped that yet. 

Breathing was something for the living, but Zira was glad to watch Crowley’s chest rise and fall as she slept, the gentle wheezing of each breath whistling past her sharp teeth. 

That said, Zira was almost always glad to watch Anthonia. 

She was  _ beautiful. _ Zira had enough experience with vampires to know that was by design, they were  _ made _ to be beautiful and alluring, to be able to draw in victims, but Zira didn’t doubt Anthonia Crowley would have been beautiful  _ before _ she was bitten. She was absolutely  _ breathtaking _ now. Perfect like a porcelain doll, especially while she slept, face completely at peace. 

Zira found it really unfair how  _ perfect _ the vampire who had attacked her sheep  _ was. _ Anthonia seemed to be  _ only _ composed of things Zira found appealing. She had a pleasant voice, a genuine laugh, and she was good at making Zira laugh. Her jaw sat in the slightest underbite, when she smiled, Zira could catch a glimpse of her pointed eye teeth. 

She had crocheted Zira a scarf, even though the weather was still warm.

It was a lovely golden colour that Zira had dyed months previously and not decided what she wanted to make with it. Now that Anthonia had given it to her, she realized that it was almost  _ exactly _ the colour of the vampire’s golden, slit-pupiled eyes. 

And every time Zira found herself watching Anthonia for a little too long, she had to remind herself that she wasn’t going to want to stay. 

Anthonia was going to want to be with her own kind. Vampires didn’t live with werewolves. In some cultures, they were considered  _ hereditary _ enemies, and in Zira’s culture, if Crowley’s perfect lips had ever touched the throat of a  _ human, _ they  _ were. _

That in  _ itself _ was a nightmare. Zira knew she had never smelled human blood on Crowley, other than her own. The bite that was now scarred on the side of her throat, torn by vicious fangs that had almost stolen her very existence, had yet to begin healing when Crowley had been hidden in the cave. 

She needed  _ blood _ to heal, and she couldn’t more clearly have been deprived. 

So even though Zira  _ knew _ why she smelled of human blood, the nightmare of  _ Gabriel _ ever happening upon the young red-haired vampire, accusing her of the ultimate crime and lunging to tear her apart woke the werewolf regularly. 

She would be  _ powerless _ to stop him. Gabriel was the alpha of the pack. Zira  _ had _ to defer to his judgement, it was the law of the Packs. 

Even if he had  _ no proof _ , he could be judge, jury and executioner for the vampire currently sleeping in Zira’s bed. 

Which was why Anthonia  _ had _ to go. Gabriel came back once a month, he would notice if the smell of a vampire didn’t fade. For Crowley’s safety, she had to leave. 

But Zira didn’t  _ want _ her to. She wanted Crowley to stay here, to wake up and greet her every evening. She wanted to lie down next to the sleeping vampire, to return on the next full moon and have Anthonia wrap herself around her again. 

The new moon was fast approaching, and Zira already knew she didn’t want to spend another alone. As her own lupine features were disappearing, Crowley was  _ flourishing _ in the nights that were steadily getting darker. 

And Zira wanted to see that every month for the rest of eternity. Wanted to watch the vampire grow stronger even as she was at her weakest, it was an urge just as strong as the one that would keep her in the cottage on the next full moon. 

She wanted to revel in the vampire’s strength, and tend to her when it fled. Anthonia was hunting for the both of them now, with the moon so slight in the sky, and Zira looked forward to being able to return the favour. 

It was even worse to know that in another life, it could have happened. 

Anthonia was a self-confessed sapphist. In another life, where they weren’t so different, there might have been a chance for them. 

In a world where they both were  _ human, _ there might have been a chance.

But they belonged to different worlds, now. Crowley belonged in a coven, and Zira in her pack. They couldn’t change those facts. 

Zira sighed, shook her head and made herself look back at the rabbit she was butchering, the one that Crowley had brought back in with her just before the sun rose. 

Rabbits weren’t much use to Crowley, she had caught it  _ specifically _ for Zira. There were a few ways of telling. 

She hadn’t drank the blood, which was a good indication, but Crowley was also very careful  _ not _ to bite the creatures she intended for Zira. Her own prey, she would go for the throat the first chance she got, a well-placed bite would sink the creature to the ground and she could drink her fill. 

But if she killed the creatures she caught for Zira that way, they would bleed the whole way back to the cottage, and she might as well have just drank from them herself. 

Crowley didn’t ever bite the prey meant for Zira, because she killed them with a quick, clean snap of the neck. 

In the grand scheme of things, it was very little, but Zira found it sweet nonetheless. 

Zira appreciated it very much. 

She was still skinning the rabbit when Crowley stepped out of the bedroom, hair mussed from sleep. “Good evening, Zira,” she said quietly, with a flash of the smile that melted the werewolf every time. 

“Good evening, Anthonia. Did you have a nice sleep?” 

Anthonia shrugged. “Eh, it was sleep,” she replied, “nowhere near as exciting as spending time with you.”

Zira blinked, surprised by the compliment, turned away from where she was cutting for long enough to slice her finger open with her knife. 

Zira was quick, but Crowley was quicker. Zira couldn’t deny she was nervous, the way Crowley’s slit pupils dilated the moment she caught the sharp tang of blood,  _ not _ rabbit’s blood, on the air, but she surprised Zira, darting forwards and catching her hand, carefully extracting the knife from the wolf’s grip before she wrapped Zira’s thumb firmly in her own nightgown, applying as much pressure as she could with both her hands. 

“Careful, Zira. You wouldn’t be the first person I’ve watched take their fingertip off,” she scolded, quickly trading her nightgown for a towel and holding Zira’s hand up above her head. “You need to keep that up high until the bleeding stops,” she instructed, “I’m going to go find some bandages.” 

“How do you-” 

“I worked with the medicine woman witch, remember?” 

Zira’s blood didn’t smell like the rabbit’s. 

For starters, the rabbit’s blood, despite her having eaten just the night previous, made her mouth water. 

Zira’s blood didn’t do that. It smelled far too much like Zira did, which wasn’t a scent Crowley could still call  _ bad, _ but it wasn’t appetizing. 

She didn’t miss the look in Zira’s eyes when she moved, though. How could she?

She didn’t miss the fact that Zira looked  _ nervous _ when she darted forwards, like she believed Crowley might hurt her. 

She did her best to assuage that fear, wrapped Zira’s hand tightly and went to find bandages before the betrayal could show on her face. 

Why would Zira believe she would hurt her? Crowley hadn’t shown herself to be dangerous the entire time she’d spent in Zira’s cottage. 

She didn’t say anything about it, walked back into the kitchen with a roll of bandages. 

Zira looked between her face and the bloody red patch on her nightgown. 

Her feelings must have shown on her face. “You saw me flinch, didn’t you.” 

Crowley didn’t have to answer, which was good, because she didn’t plan on it. She pulled the towel away and set about wrapping Zira’s thumb in bandages, tight as she could. 

“I’m sorry, Anthonia. I didn’t mean to make you think I was afraid of you, you just startled me. I forgot you used to be a medicine woman, I couldn’t think of  _ why _ could would lunge at me once I started bleeding-”

“Unless I was going to attack you.” 

“And I was wrong, and shouldn’t have thought that about you, Anthonia. You’ve given me  _ absolutely _ no reason to expect you to hurt me or  _ anyone _ else, it was rude of me. It won’t happen again.” 

Crowley was inclined to  _ believe _ Zira, if only because she  _ liked _ Zira. 

She liked everything about Zira. She liked that the werewolf would now sit and read to her as she crocheted, since letters still gave her problems. Zira  _ loved _ to read, and at some point, she had realized that Crowley was sad to be left out, and so she had taken to her reading favourites aloud, letting Crowley enjoy the tales and fables that had escaped her all her human life. 

She liked Zira’s sparkly grey-green eyes and the way her face lit up when she was excited, she liked hearing Zira laugh and did her best to make it happen as often as she could. 

And she was holding onto each of those moments when she  _ did _ make a smile grace Zira’s pretty face, because she  _ knew _ any day it could be the last time she saw it. 

She  _ knew _ Zira was only sheltering her until another coven passed through. She knew eventually a coven of vampires would arrive and whisk her away and she would have no reason to ever see the werewolf again. 

And the idea left an ache in her chest. 

She wanted nothing more than to stay. She wanted to wake up with the wolf curled up next to her on the next full moon, wanted to scratch behind Zira’s ears, playfully curious to know if she had a spot like Dog did, that would make her leg bounce. 

But that wasn’t something she could have. She was just going to have to hold onto every moment she got, because it would all end someday  _ soon. _

She carefully tied the bandage off with fingers that shook ever-so-slightly. “It’s fine, Zira. If I had ever  _ believed  _ in any of this before I met Samael, I’m sure I would have flinched, too.” 

“What did he do to you, Anthonia? You don’t talk about him very often.”

Crowley sighed. 

She had known if she kept off-handedly mentioning Samael, eventually Zira was going to ask her how he’d caught her. “I was going out for angel’s trumpet. Anathema needed them for a ritual, she was busy so she asked me to get them. I never minded going out at night, I didn’t  _ believe _ there were dangers like she did.” 

It had been a dark night, perfect for  _ finding _ the fragrant blooms. Crowley knew they were poisonous, but also knew Anathema likely didn’t plan on eating them. 

“I knew where a patch was growing, so I set out for it. It wasn’t more than a half an hour’s walk. On my way there, I met a man in the woods. I-” 

Crowley couldn’t help but laugh when she got to this part. “I asked if I should be  _ afraid _ of him. I was making light of all of Anathema’s warnings, and I asked him if he was a night-stalking beast who was going to kill me. He laughed and told me he would do his best not to. Then he asked me why I was worried about things that would kill me in the woods.” 

His voice had sounded like music, friendly and alluring. “I told him about what Anathema was always telling me, told him I thought it was full of shit. I guess that’s when he decided I would make an easy target.” 

“Is that when he attacked you?” 

“No,” Crowley replied, “I told him I had to get going, that my friend was waiting for me, and that was true, and I didn’t want the flowers to wilt before I got back home.” 

She took a deep breath. “So he offered me something I couldn’t resist. He told me to come back tomorrow, and he would give me the  _ real _ answers of what lurked in the woods. Not the fairy tales my friend told me, the whole,  _ honest _ truth. I- I had always wanted answers, so I agreed. I brought the flowers back to Anathema, and didn’t tell her  _ anything  _ about the man in the woods. I- I thought I could come back home with answers, I thought Anathema would be interested to hear them too, I- I guess I wanted to surprise her. And I knew she would try to stop me from going.” 

Zira was silent, even though Crowley didn’t doubt she could see where this was going. 

“I got dressed late at night and went out to meet him. The man in the woods was Samael. He gave me my answers, true, but only by telling me that I should have listened to my friend before he slammed me up against a tree and tore into my throat. He told me I pleaded for my life, and it intrigued him, so he decided to grant what I asked. I woke up the next morning starving with these teeth.” 

Zira was quiet for a very long time. 

“It was stupid, really. I did it to myself. Should have known that I should listen to Anathema. It’s my own fault he got me, I walked right over to him.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Zira said softly, “it’s- it’s still a terrible thing to happen to you.” 

“It’s not so bad, in the long run,” Crowley said, gazing just the few inches down she had to look to see Zira’s eyes. “I wouldn’t have met you if he hadn’t fooled me.” 

There was silence again, as they both stared at each other, and then Zira leaned forwards and Crowley rushed to join her, and pressed her lips to the wolf’s. 

And for a moment, everything was perfect. 


	7. Chapter 7

Zira expected that Anthonia’s lips would taste sharp and metallic, like the blood she drank. 

They didn’t. Despite the sharp edges Zira found so alluring, nothing about the kiss was sharp. Crowley’s lips were soft and sweet and Zira didn’t ever want to stop tasting them. 

Zira finally pulled away when her lungs started to burn, and not a second before. 

Despite that, Crowley still flinched back when she did that, as though she thought Zira was trying to stop her. "I- I'm sorry I-"

Zira shook her head. "You may not need to breathe, Anthonia, but I do," she said simply. 

“I don’t need to breathe?” 

Zira could help but burst out laughing. “You haven’t noticed?” She asked, grinning up at the vampire. “Anthonia, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, and please don’t take this personally, but you’re dead, and that’s how you’re now immortal, and why humans have difficulty killing your kind. Your heart still beats after you’ve eaten, but you don’t need to breathe. However, I’m simply immortal, not dead. I do have to breathe. The kiss was very welcome, Anthonia.”

Crowley was quiet for a few moments after that, then she grinned. “You’re right! I haven’t breathed this whole time!” 

Zira began laughing again, even though she had expected a more serious response. "It's been a very long time since I've been around a newly created immortal, Anthonia, I had forgotten how much there was that you don't know unless someone tells you."

Anthonia was quiet for a moment longer, then she looked back up at Zira. "If you only pulled away because you need to breathe," she began, "can we do it again?"

Zira could have laughed again. Laughed at the eager expression on the young vampire's face, laughed at how she tried to sound calm and impartial. But she didn't much feel like laughing. Her own heart was racing in her chest as well, and she had no mind to deny what Anthonia asked.

Instead, she cupped one of Anthonia's cheeks in her hand, leaned in and pressed her lips back to the vampire's. 

Crowley positively melted. She was an inch or so taller than Zira, but she lost the height advantage the way she folded into Zira's arms, clung to the wolf as though she might be swept away at any moment. 

"I- I don't want to join a coven," she said quietly, after they broke apart. "I don't want to go. I want to stay here with you. C- can I stay here?” 

Zira tried to bring herself to deny the vampire in her arms. She knew it was better if she insisted the vampire join her own kind. Crowley would struggle to adjust to her new life far more without the presence of her fellow vampires. 

She knew things would be complicated. She would have to ensure that Gabriel never found Crowley, in order to keep her safe, but wouldn’t it be worth it, if she didn’t have to be lonely anymore? If she could keep her companion with her? 

Her resolve broke. “Yes. Yes you can, Anthonia, I’d be glad if you did,” she agreed. She took a deep breath, gazed just slightly upwards into Crowley’s golden eyes, the shade that perfectly matched the scarf Crowley had made her. “We’ll have to take precautions, make adjustments, but I want you to stay, too,” she admitted, “a coven has the right to insist you go with them, if you aren’t a part of one already, but we’ll just keep you away from other covens.” 

Crowley beamed. "I should have said something sooner, Zira, I just-" 

"I know, Anne, you thought the same thing as me. I didn't want to say that I wanted you to stay because I thought you wanted to join your own kind."

"I couldn't care less about other vampires, Zira, I just want to be here, with you and Sunshine and the sheep. I want to stay with you."

"Of course. Then you can."

Zira paused a moment. "There's just one thing I have to make sure you understand. We're both adults, this is perfectly fine but- I need you to promise to take all of this at your own pace. We're both adults but I'm centuries older than you, Anthonia. If you need time to adjust and to work up with our relationship, take it. I don't want to go too fast for you, it wouldn't be fair of me."

Crowley nodded. "I'll be okay, Zira. You've had a lot more experience with the world than I have, but I promise I'm not a naive little girl. I've seen my share of the world. And I'll take things as slow as both of us need, but you'd better promise to do the same."

"Of course," Zira agreed.

"So," Crowley began, "centuries older than me. How long have you been here?" 

"In this cottage? A little less than a century. But I've been alive since before the fall of Rome," Zira replied, "almost two thousand years. It gets very lonely at times, but it all starts to blend together after a while. You forget the dull moments you don't need to think about. I spent most of that time in Gabriel's pack, ninety or so years ago I asked to step down from my place in the hunt and just guard my own little section of the territory. It took some negotiating, but we arranged it. I've been here ever since. Alone until you arrived. And I never realized how lonely it was here until you did."

"I feel like we should celebrate somehow," Crowley remarked. 

Zira thought about that for a moment. "I need some supplies from town, why don't… you ate yesterday, yes?" 

Crowley nodded. 

"Why don't you come with me? It's an overcast day, if you wear your cloak you should be safe from the sun, it might be nice for you to get out again and I would love company," Zira suggested. 

She didn't miss the way Crowley tensed up. "Do you think it's safe?" She asked, eyes widening. 

"Crowley… have you seen a human since Samael turned you?" 

Crowley shook her head. 

"You just ate yesterday, if you're nervous you can catch something on the way, but you've not tasted human blood, you shouldn't have any trouble."

Something about the way Crowley reacted to that was off, but Zira didn't say anything about it. "If you're nervous or don't think you can do it, you don't have to come. I don't want to force you into something that makes you uncomfortable. I just thought you might like to get out for a while, see some new faces."

Crowley's smile seemed forced. "It sounds like a fun idea, Zira," she replied, "let me go get my cloak and shoes, then we can go."

"Anne, if you're worried about it you don't have to come. I can understand that it might be scary," Zira assured her. 

But Crowley wasn't hearing any of it, she seemed determined to go. Maybe she was less nervous than she looked. 

She walked back into the bedroom, came out with her cloak pulled low over her face and her boots on. "How far is it?" She asked. 

"A few miles by path, but through the woods, only a half-mile. We'll be there in no time. Did you want to have something to eat before we go? It would take whatever edge you might be worried about off."

"That might be a good idea," Crowley conceded, fidgeting a little bit. 

"Do you care if it's warm? There's probably something in a trap, and that's easier to grab than you hunting during the daytime."

"It doesn't matter to me."

There was a rabbit with its foot in Zira's trap, Zira pulled it out and handed it to Crowley, who made quick work of it. 

She thankfully managed to avoid getting blood all over herself, so she would still be presentable in the village. 

When she was finished, she walked back up to Zira, laced her fingers through the wolf's. "You'd best lead the way, Zira," she said, "I don't know where we're going and I've made it so that all I can smell is rabbit."

She had a fair point, Zira licked her thumb and rubbed away a spot of blood from the point of Crowley’s nose before she led the way into the woods. 

She made this trip fairly regularly, and knew the way like the back of her hand. She had to get all of her supplies that she couldn’t produce herself from this particular village. 

She led Crowley through the woods, slipped her hand into Crowley's. "The nice thing about living alone in the woods is that there's no one to catch us," she said, smiling and pressing a kiss to Crowley's cheek. 

Crowley's skin was a little warmer now that she had eaten today, she smiled. "I'm beginning to understand your logic," she replied. 

The village was a quaint little place, and Crowley was absolutely terrified. 

Zira's point had scared her out of possibly trying to refuse to go. She couldn't refuse after Zira said that she wouldn't have a problem.

Just so long as she hadn't drank human blood. 

Refusing to go now would make it painfully obvious that Crowley had a reason to be scared. 

It had been months since the Accident. Zira couldn't even smell it on her, surely it had been long enough that it wouldn't affect her. She had just eaten, and ever since the fateful encounter in her village she hadn't tasted a drop of human blood.

If she admitted to misgivings, it would be like admitting to her crimes. She loved and trusted Zira, but that was the entire reason why she couldn’t admit it. 

Zira trusted her, too. If she admitted this now, she would break Zira’s trust into a million pieces. 

It was better to keep it to herself. It would never be a problem. It wasn’t something she planned on repeating, she was happy with rabbits and deer and other things they caught in the woods. She didn’t need human blood, it had just been a one-time thing that she wouldn’t repeat. A mistake that wouldn’t happen twice. 

There was no danger. 

Anthonia was still trying to convince herself of that when they walked into the village and the sights, sounds and smells assaulted her senses. 

She didn't doubt that even without what had happened, the exposure would be a shock to her system. She had only been around Zira and Sunshine for the past several months. 

Everything smelled sharper and more intense. She could hear the thrum of blood pulsing through veins in her ears, she could smell the copper tang of blood in the air. 

And all around her, there was movement. People hustling and bustling around her. 

She grabbed onto the wolf's arm. "Zira…"

Crowley was nervous. She was fairly certain this was going to go wrong for her. She stuck her face into Zira's shoulder, breathed in deeply. 

Zira smelled of a familiar cologne she liked to wear, and of course, as always, like a dog.

It wasn't enough to block out the blood, but it was a little easier now that she had something else overwhelming her senses. 

"Anthonia, are you alright?" Zira asked, pressing a hand against her shoulder. 

"It's just a lot," Crowley replied, not lifting her face. "Everything is very strong and loud." 

"Do you need to go?" Zira asked, frowning at her. "It's okay if you do, we don't have to stay. I thought an outing might be nice but we don't need to stay. I have no idea how bad this might be for you, I'm not like you."

Crowley took another deep breath, inhaled Zira's cologne again. "I think I can handle it," she replied, exhaled. "I just needed a moment to get a handle on myself. It's just a lot very suddenly."

Zira nodded. "That's understandable. We can take as long as you need, Anthonia, get your bearings back before we continue."

After a couple more gulps of air that smelled of cologne and dog, Crowley could make herself focus on that instead of the coppery tang in the air that made her want to attack something, despite having just eaten. This smell was different. Better than a rabbit or a deer or a fox. 

But she could make herself ignore it as long as she could smell Zira's cologne. The sound of rushing blood still echoed in her ears, but it was tolerable. "Okay, I think I'm… I think I'm alright now." 

She pulled her hand out of Zira's reluctantly, neither of them wanted to let go but they couldn't walk hand-in-hand in a village, so they simply remained shoulder to shoulder. 

Zira looked at different dyes for her wool, purchased another blue and a deep shade of red that caught Crowley's eye. 

She then went and bought what she couldn't make herself, flour and other baking supplies, the sorts of things Crowley had expected her to buy. 

When she was done purchasing grains, and returned with a pastry that she pulled in half for the both of them, but after politely taking a bite Crowley handed it back, it didn't sit well in her stomach, she finished her snack and led Crowley to a small cottage that smelled musty and old. 

As soon as they stepped inside, Crowley understood why Zira wanted to stop here. 

The shelves were lined with books. Some old, some new, some sitting somewhere in the middle. Crowley's eyes tried to scan the titles but the letters swam in her vision. 

"Do you mind terribly if we stop here? I know it's probably not that exciting for you, but-" 

"Go ahead, Zira, I'll keep myself entertained," Crowley replied. 

An elderly man stepped out of the back of the shop. "Miss Fell, I see you've brought a friend with you!" He said, smiling jovially. 

"Indeed I have, this is Miss Crowley. Miss Crowley, this is Brother Francis."

Crowley nodded. 

"Can I interest you in anything, Miss Crowley? Miss Fell will be a while, if I know her."

"No thank you, Brother," Crowley replied, ducking her head ever so slightly when the man looked at her, making sure her eyes were averted. "I'm not much of a reader, the letters all swim around when I look at them."

Brother Francis nodded. "A shame that is," he decided, "books can lead people on some of the most wonderful journeys. Miss Fell, have you seen this one yet? It's only been published recently."

He reached up for the book, grabbed a book from the shelf and handed it to Zira. 

"I haven't seen this one, actually," Zira admitted, flipping through the pages. 

"You quite enjoyed his other work, insisted on purchasing it from me once you had read it. The Masque of the Red Death." 

Zira smiled. "I do remember that. Might I borrow this one?" She asked. 

"Of course, I hope you enjoy," Brother Francis agreed. 

Zira was apparently not done, and she continued browsing the shelves. Crowley watched her as well as the brother, who set about rebinding a rather ancient looking text. 

It was interesting work, no one had bothered much with reading for fun in her village so she'd not seen work like that before. He sliced away with old binding, Crowley's eyes carefully fixed on what he was doing.

It was pure chance, really. Brother Francis was clearly a skilled worker, she doubted this happened often but it happened. That was all that really mattered. 

After one pass of his razor-sharp blade, Brother Francis nicked his thumb. 

And all of the sudden, Zira's cologne was doing nothing to distract Crowley. 


	8. Chapter 8

Time seemed to slow down as soon as Brother Francis nicked his thumb. 

It put a tang on the air the second the wound was opened. It was all Crowley could smell, all she could even think about. 

Zira must have known something was wrong, but they had proved just the other day that Crowley was faster than her. 

She was on her feet in seconds. Brother Francis had hardly even noticed he was bleeding before she was upright, slit pupils suddenly round and incredibly focused. 

She couldn't resist. The smell made her mouth water like nothing else had since the Accident in her village. She needed the blood, it didn't matter that she had just eaten. It was all she could think about. 

She couldn't fight it. She lunged. 

She barely made it two steps when a strong, heavy weight slammed into her side, knocking her off her feet. Crowley squirmed, but a hot jaw locked around one of her forearms, and she was pinned to the ground with a lot more than a human's worth of weight. 

Crowley had never seen Zira transform when it wasn't the full moon, but it was the cream coloured wolf who had crashed into her, locked her jaw around Crowley's right forearm, not quite drawing blood, but hard enough to hurt. 

And it wasn't enough to make Crowley snap out of it. Even from the ground, her golden eyes stayed fixed on Brother Francis, who had suddenly realized he was in danger now that there was a wolf in his shop. He scrambled back from behind the desk, pressing a rag to his thumb. It muffled the tang of the blood, but it wasn't enough to shake Crowley's focus. 

_Anthonia!_

Crowley knew that voice. She needed to listen. But she didn't want to. She wanted to throw the wolf off of her and go after the brother. 

She thrashed, Zira's teeth dug properly into her arm, enough that the pain must have registered on Crowley's face. 

_I'm sorry, Anthonia but I need you to focus. Ignore Brother Francis._

She could see blood dripping down her arm. She was bleeding, she tried to pull her arm out of Zira's mouth but the wolf refused to let go, and pulling just hurt even more. 

She needed to stop and reassess. She couldn't keep fighting like this, it wasn't working. 

Zira, mindful of the fact that her teeth were in Crowley's arm, pushed her head down and covered Crowley's nose with her fur. 

Zira smelled like wet dog. A little like cologne. 

Not like blood. Crowley was bleeding, but that didn't tempt her. Not her own blood. 

She could still smell Brother Francis' blood, but it was faint. It was a small cut, he was staunching it quickly. 

_Answer me honestly, Anthonia. Can I let you go?_ Zira asked, grey-green eyes alight with concerned. 

Crowley knew she couldn't lie to Zira. She shook her head. 

She didn't doubt that if she got the chance, she would throw the wolf off of herself and go back to what the blood made her want to do. She could all but taste it in the back of her throat. 

_Thank you for your honesty. Can I let go of your arm?_

Crowley wasn't sure. Zira carefully laid herself down on Crowley's chest, leaving her well and truly pinned, and that was when she released Crowley's forearm. 

The pain lessened a little, and Zira's broad tongue swept over the wound she had left on Crowley's arm. _I'm sorry, Anthonia_. 

Crowley shook her head. She threw her arms around Zira, buried her face in the wolf's cream fur. 

She needed to drown out the smell of Brother Francis' blood. She needed to smell something else. Zira was the best option.

"Is she another one like you, Miss Fell?" The brother asked in a weak voice. 

_Not quite. Have you stopped bleeding?_

Brother Francis pulled the rag he had pressed to his thumb away. "It appears so." 

_Go into the back, bind the wound tight as you can and then come back, and we should be able to explain._

Brother Francis disappeared into the back of the shop. 

Crowley breathed in deeply, she could only smell Zira's fur and her own blood. 

"'m sorry, Zira," she murmured, slowly settling herself back onto the wooden floor. 

She couldn't smell the blood anymore. She felt calmer now, and Zira clearly realized that too. 

_I'm going to get off of you now, unless you don't think that's a good idea?_

Crowley considered it for a moment. "I think I'm okay…" she agreed, and Zira slowly stood back up, taking her weight off Crowley's chest. 

Crowley stayed on the ground. Her arm was still oozing blood, she didn't want to stand up. She didn't want to give herself the chance to change her mind. 

Zira shifted back to her human form as quickly as she had switched to wolf, pulled her arms around the shaking vampire. "It's alright. It's okay, Anthonia, I didn't expect you to handle that well, I should have been faster. You're alright now, just breathe and calm down. We owe Brother Francis a bit of an explanation and then we can go home, I shouldn't have kept us out this long." 

Crowley didn't know what else to do, which led to her sobbing into Zira's shoulder. "It's alright, my darling, there's no harm done. I won't let you hurt anyone. I've got you," the wolf said quietly. "I'm sorry I hurt you, you haven't done anything wrong, I swear." 

There were footsteps, but they weren't accompanied by the smell of blood, just alcohol to clean the wound. "She's hurt, Miss Fell. I brought some bandages," Brother Francis said from the doorway. "Is it safe for me to come back in?" 

Zira contemplated Crowley for a few moments. "I think so," she decided, when Crowley gave a slight nod. She didn't move her face from where it was buried in Zira's shoulder though. 

Brother Francis passed Zira the roll of bandages, which she set to the side for the time being. "She's not like you, I get it now," he said, walking over to stand behind the desk. "She's the other sort. The sort you used to hunt." 

Zira nodded, stood up and lifted Crowley off the ground with her. "She is, yes. She doesn't mean you any harm, she's just very young. I think this might be the first time she's been exposed to human blood. I should have thought about that before I brought her here, I'm terribly sorry." 

Crowley didn't say anything. She clung desperately to the wolf, afraid to move an inch. 

"I got that," Brother Francis agreed, walking over to the two of them. "It's alright, miss. No harm, no foul. Just scared me a little."

"Scared me too," Crowley said quietly. Zira might have laughed. 

"Anthonia, we should get your arm bandaged and bring you home, you've had a lot of excitement for your first day back around other people. Don't worry, Brother Francis won't say anything, he's one of very few humans who knows what I am. He'll keep your secret."

"Of course I will. Like I said, Miss Crowley, no harm, no foul. Please don't hesitate to come back and visit when you're feeling a little better. You're very welcome here. Any friend of Miss Fell's is a friend of mine." 

Crowley sniffled, and Zira gently set her down on top of the counter and wrapped her bloodied arm in the clean white bandages. "I'm sorry, darling. I didn't know how else to get enough of your attention, I'm not used to… to not trying to destroy the vampire I needed to stop. I'm afraid I don't know another way to stop you that doesn't involve pain, but we'll work on it. I didn't mean to hurt you." 

Crowley was trembling like a leaf. Zira had a lump in her throat, her heart was hammering in her chest. As she wound the bandage around the vampire's wounded arm, guilt twisted its way further and further into her chest. 

She hadn't wanted to hurt Crowley. Seeing her bleed was upsetting. But she truly hadn't known how else to stop her. 

Crowley wrapped herself back around Zira as soon as the bandage was tied. 

"Thank you for being so understanding, Brother Francis," she said, carefully lifting the vampire back off the counter. Crowley seemed to weigh almost nothing. 

"Of course, Miss Fell. A little fright never hurt anyone, you two seem to have it under control now. You can go out the back, slip back into the woods without going through town so no one sees you holding her and asks questions," Brother Francis said, shockingly calm. 

Zira nodded. "Thank you," she said again, lifted her bag of dyes and supplies with the book she was borrowing in it and swung it over her shoulder. 

Crowley clearly wasn't able to walk. She was still shaky, still had her face buried in Zira's neck. Zira carefully pulled the vampire's hood back up, made sure her arms and hands were covered by her cloak and stepped out the back door. 

Once they were back deep into the woods, Zira sat the both of them down, and gently disentangled Crowley's arms from around her. "It's alright, love, we're far away now, I just want you to calm down a little. I'm going to catch you something to eat-"

"Don't go," Crowley said wretchedly. 

"Alright, I won't," Zira agreed, took a seat next to Crowley. "Everything is alright, love. You didn't hurt anyone, you handled everything impressively well," she promised. 

Crowley sniffled again. 

"I'm proud of you, Anthonia. You got yourself under control very quickly, and when I proposed that we go into town, I wasn't expecting something like this. I should have thought it through better, this is my fault, too, love," Zira explained, pressed a kiss to her wet cheek. "You haven't done anything wrong." 

"Scared m'self," Crowley said quietly, wiped her eyes. 

"I won't lie, Anthonia, you scared me a little too, but it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have been expected to handle that any better than you did. Do you want me to catch you something? It might take the edge off and settle your stomach," Zira explained, "I know you've eaten a lot lately but it will settle your stomach. Then we can get you home and you can get some rest. This was really stressful for you, I'm sorry." 

Crowley swallowed heavily. "Something to eat might be nice," she agreed, biting her lip. 

Zira nodded. She pressed a kiss to Crowley's lips, took a few steps backwards and shifted back into her wolf form. 

It was hard to transform with so little moon left, but she didn't have to maintain the form for long. She nabbed a rabbit within a few minutes and hurried back to Crowley's side, nuzzled up against her while she tore into the rabbit. 

"I didn't mean to, Zira, I couldn't stop-"

_I know, Anthonia. It's nothing you did. I should have expected something like this. I'm glad you didn't get to him, and I'm sorry I had to hurt you._

"It's okay, Zira," Crowley replied, tearing a piece of the rabbit off and holding it out to the wolf. 

Zira ate it obligingly, her tongue licking over Crowley's palm. She crunched on the bones, a sound that made Crowley laugh. _We'll get you back home now, love, you'll be alright. You're going to be okay._

Crowley nodded. She wiped her eyes again, let the carcass of the rabbit drop to the ground. "Is it always going to be like this?" She asked, eyes welling with more tears. "Am I never going to be able to control it? Because… because then I don't think I should go out anymore I-" 

_It won't always be like this, Anthonia. The older you get, the more controlled you'll be. You're going to be able to control it. You're going to get better, I promise. It just takes some time. You'll be alright._

Zira licked Crowley's cheek. She could taste her tears. 

"It won't always happen like that?" 

_The older you get, the more accustomed to your new life you get, the less things like this will bother you. There have been vampires all throughout history, at executions, working as doctors, you name it. These things get easier._

Crowley nodded, sniffled and brushed away tears. "Let's go home, Zira." 

Zira shifted back, helped Crowley get back to her feet. "Can you walk?" 

"I think so. I'm okay- It's just… it's just a lot." 

Zira kissed her cheek. "I know, darling. I know. I shouldn't have brought you out as early as I did." 

"It's not your fault, Zira," Crowley said, leaned against her shoulder. 

Zira wrapped her arms around her shoulders and started leading her back to the cottage. The walk seemed longer now that she wasn't just on a lovely trip with her new lover. 

She needed to get them both home. Zira set the pace at as fast as Crowley could walk, back through the woods and to the cottage. 

Sunshine was chittering happily. Zira sat Crowley down on the couch, wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, reached a hand into the birdcage and handed Sunshine to Crowley. 

"You're not worried I'll bite her head off?" Crowley asked, her tongue dabbing at a spot of blood on the edge of her mouth. 

"She's the only Sunshine you can see, remember? You won't hurt her," Ezra replied, coaxed the little parakeet onto Crowley's hand. 

Sure enough, Crowley merely kissed Sunshine's head and ran her fingers gently along her yellow feathers. 

"You're probably in shock, and that's okay. I'm going to make some tea, you can just relax. We'll get you in a bath later tonight. It's all okay."

Crowley nodded. "I'm sorry, Zira, didn't mean to make a mess of your outing."

"You haven't done anything wrong, love. You don't control what you are. This will get better. I loved our outing while it lasted, and I'll happily stay here with you now for as long as you need, so you can rest and relax, and hopefully if this happens again, things will be better. I have absolute faith in you." 

"That makes one of us."

Crowley rubbed her arm where the bandage was tied. Zira could see blood staining the white cloth, in the shape of her jaw. 

"I'm so sorry, love. It's- that wasn't acceptable of me to do, I never should have hurt you."

"It got my attention. It worked, Zira, at least it made me stop and think about what I was doing. It's alright. You can't help who you are either, and this-" she looked at the bloodied bandage sadly, "-this is what you do. You stop my kind." 

"Not us, Anthonia. Not anymore. We have each other, and we're going to make something different for ourselves."


	9. Chapter 9

Crowley still didn't want Zira to leave her side by the time the wolf convinced her to take a bath, so Zira sat beside the claw-foot tub, one hand holding tightly to one of the vampire's. 

Anthonia was freezing, and Zira knew it was because of shock. She was terrified of what she had nearly done, how she had reacted. She had shook most of the afternoon, with Sunshine perched on her hand, and Zira couldn't really blame her. She had barely managed to convince the young vampire to drink some tea, which was clearly not as bad as the danish pastry that Zira had given her. 

The chamomile had seemed to calm her a little, but she was still obviously freaked out. 

Zira took it as a good sign. 

No one who belonged in Samael's coven would have been terrified like that. 

"Are you sure you're not disappointed in me, Zira?" Crowley asked fearfully, "I really didn't mean to, but I-"

"Crowley, it's not your fault. I told you, it's not your fault. I'm not disappointed, I'm impressed. I'm disappointed I didn't manage to get you to stop without hurting you."

"What would have happened if you hadn't managed to stop me?" 

Zira's heart lurched. 

She knew what the answer should have been. She lived as a loner, but she had a pack and rules to follow, still. 

Any vampire who had tasted human blood had to be destroyed. They were abominations, unsavable. They had gone too far. 

But it was hard to imagine doing that to Anthonia. Zira had destroyed more than her fair share of vampires in her time. Samael had been the enemy since long before Zira had been bitten. Gabriel had led his pack for six thousand years, trying to wipe out the coven. 

Zira herself had been a part of it for almost two millennia. 

She shook her head, "I don't know Anne. I know what I'm supposed to do, but I don't think I could. I think it's just a good thing that you didn't do anything." 

Anthonia sat up in the tub, looked down at Zira with her intense golden gaze. "Would you still destroy me?" She asked.

Zira also knew what the answer to that was meant to be. Those who feasted on the blood of humans were monsters, plain and simple, they had to be destroyed. Human life had to be protected above all else. 

But looking up at the young vampire with dripping red hair and freckles smattered across her cheeks, it wasn't so black and white. 

She wondered if Anne was trying to hint at something. 

Newborn vampires ate often. A mature vampire like Samael could easily go a week or two if he needed. 

Anne ate every two days, at least. The week between when Samael's coven had abandoned her and the slaughter of Zira's sheep must have been unbearable. 

If she  _ really _ hadn't eaten. 

What reason did Anthonia have to be so terrified of Zira getting near her in the cave if she'd never hurt someone else? 

But looking up into Anthonia's wide golden eyes, she couldn't imagine the young vampire hurting anyone. Maybe she'd had a close call. 

Zira broke. "No. But I don't know that we could go on as we are. Human life is sacred, Anne, it's a value I've upheld since long before l was turned. I'm not sure it's something I could look past. I would do my best, I know it wasn't all your fault that happened but… I think we should just consider it lucky that nothing came of it."

Anthonia nodded. Zira's words seemed to weigh heavily with her. "Am I allowed to get out of the tub yet?" She asked. 

Zira smiled. "Of course. I just thought it might help you relax. How are you feeling?" 

"I'm still freaked out." 

"I think that's a good thing. I would be more worried about you if you were completely calm and fine with what happened. You care and are bothered by what happened. You won't let it happen again. I trust you."

Anthonia nodded. She unplugged the tub, reached for the towel Zira had pulled out for her. She stepped out of the tub, not shy in the least, towelled her long red hair dry.

The freckling across her cheeks and shoulders continued down her chest and arms and up her legs. There must have been hundreds, maybe thousands. 

She dried her hair carefully, wrapped the towel around herself. "Will you keep reading to me?" She asked as she tugged on her nightgown. 

"Are you actually tired? It's nearly the new moon," Zira remarket. 

"Not really, but I want to stay with you," she replied, "I don't much feel like going out, I'd just like to relax."

Zira smiled. "Are you liking the book we chose last time, or should we choose another?"

"Anything you want to read, Zira, I'll be happy. I just like hearing you read, and I like hearing stories. I've never gotten to hear adventures before, my town was very boring and I could never read Anathema's books, about herbal remedies or epic tales. Until my life because rather accidentally  _ became _ an adventure, I didn’t know any,” Anthonia replied, hanging her towel on the hook and reaching a hand down to help Zira up off the ground. 

Zira took her hand gratefully, kissed her cheek before she walked back into the sitting room to find the book she had been reading. “On the couch, or in bed?” She asked. 

Anne stepped into the bedroom, answering Zira’s question. 

The vampire immediately snuggled up against Zira’s side, an arm around her waist, head on her shoulder. That was probably why she had decided on the bed.

Zira had no objections. She flipped the book open back to the page she had been reading from. 

Reading aloud tired Zira’s voice, but she didn’t mind doing it for Crowley. The vampire was fascinated with every word, watching both the wolf and the book intently, waiting for the next twist. Zira had already read her several Shakespeare plays, and some new dark horror that she had thought Crowley would enjoy. 

It made her laugh when Anthonia would come to her simple conclusions to books that had long caused discussions. When Zira had finished Mary Shelley’s  _ Frankenstein, _ for example, and asked Anthonia what she thought of the monster, she had immediately replied that he was a murderer, and some crimes outweighed others. Frankenstein was a terrible creator, but the Creature had murdered members of the not-doctor’s family and chased the man to death. “I don’t think it’s a moral question at all, Zira. They’re both awful, but the Creature took it much too far.”

Zira had laughed and laughed, thinking of the countless hours that went into the discussion, and the way Anthonia had drawn her conclusion within two minutes of hearing the end. She’d laughed for long enough, in fact, that the vampire had stopped her and demanded to know what she had said wrong, why her summary of the book was so funny. 

Zira had breathlessly explained that it was funny  _ because _ Anthonia saw it so black and white. 

But this book they were reading, one by the same author as that she had borrowed from Brother Francis, Crowley seemed to find a little less obvious, and therefore more interesting. 

Zira couldn’t read for long, this far into the moon cycle she was tired, but she got through a couple of pages before she set the book to the side and rolled ever-so-slightly to face Crowley. “You don’t have to stay, dearest.” she said, “but I think I need some rest now.”

Crowley nodded and snuggled up closer to her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Crowley hadn’t really thought her plan very far through, considering she wasn’t that tired, and Zira was now asleep on her arm. There wasn’t really much else for her to do, so she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. 

She was restless for a good couple of hours. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but all of the sudden, she was standing back in her village in her blood-soaked shirt. 

She was creeping back in with the burn on her hand that she had gotten trying to escape Samael’s camp. She needed supplies, and she was trying not to be spotted. She knew Anathema was out looking for someone. From what she had overheard, a lot of the village was. 

She entertained the idea, for just a moment, that it might be her that Anathema was looking for, and then dismissed the thought. She couldn’t make herself think about that. 

If it  _ was _ her that Anathema was looking for, she was going to have to make sure that her search was unsuccessful. 

It was dark. She could see a lot better in the dark than she had ever been able to before, it was like walking around at dusk rather than in the middle of the night. 

Her focus didn’t waver the way it used to. She could see exactly where she needed to go, could smell each individual member of the village before she saw them, so she could stay out of sight. 

She felt bad. She had grown up with these people. This was her home, but something told her she needed to stay out of sight. She couldn’t be spotted. 

What if someone figured out what had happened? What if someone recognized her sharp eyes and sharper teeth? Anathema kept the village well-informed on the supernatural, and Shadwell’s main focus was witches, although he reluctantly tolerated Anathema, but he didn’t like  _ any _ supernatural phenomena. 

If she got spotted, there was a very good chance that she would be killed. 

So she snuck around back through the town, to the cottage she had shared with Anathema since the death of her parents. Anathema’s grandmother, Agnes, had looked after them for a long time, although she’d always had misgivings about Crowley.

Maybe this was why. Agnes Nutter had been a witch, just like Anathema. 

Crowley crept back into the cottage, slipping her key into the lock and slipping back inside. 

She needed supplies. She needed a cloak, to protect her from the sun, she needed some of her own possessions, and she needed to go. She didn’t know where she would go to, but she needed to leave the village. 

She pulled her long black cloak out of the closet in the small room she shared with Anathema, pulled it over her shoulders, put the hood up over her face. 

She would have grabbed food, but there was no point. Her stomach  _ was _ growling, yelling at her to eat something, but what was she supposed to eat in the village, Adam’s dog? She wouldn’t attack one of her friends. 

She was going through her drawers, wondering about bringing her mother’s jewelry with her when she dropped something on her foot. “Damn!” She hissed, reached down to pick it up, and heard a voice call into the cottage. 

“Anne? Are you back? Is that you?”

Anathema’s voice. Crowley stuffed the necklace she had dropped on her foot into her pocket, not even looking at it, and raced over to the window. 

She threw it open and climbed out just seconds before Anathema got into the room, closed it behind her. 

“Anne?” 

Crowley cowered against the cottage, knowing that if Anathema looked out the window there was a chance she would be spotted. 

“Anthonia? I know you were here, your drawers are open! Who else would go through your drawers?”

Crowley heard her going through the drawer, trying to see if something was missing. 

This was her only chance. She raced away from the window and ducked behind a building.

It wasn’t long after that Anathema opened the window and stuck her head out. “Anthonia? Come on, I know you were in here, where are you? I miss you, whatever it is can’t be that bad!” She called. 

Crowley’s throat was dry. Her breathing was quieter now that she had changed, which was the only reason her gasping wasn’t giving her away. 

“Anne?” 

Anathema sighed. “Come  _ home, _ Anne. Whenever you’re ready. We’ve all been looking for you.” 

Guilt burned in Crowley’s chest, but she didn’t say anything. Anathema closed the window.

Crowley had to leave, and she had to leave now. She stayed behind the buildings, making her way towards the woods at the far end of the village. 

Once she got into the woods, she could get away. She wouldn’t have to stop, she could just keep running until she found somewhere to hide out. 

She could practically taste her freedom when she heard footsteps behind her. 

“Anthonia?” 

The vampire whirled around, and saw a young boy standing behind her. “Warlock,” she whispered, recognizing him instantly. 

She had spent a long time raising the boy, after all. She’d been the perfect age to help Harriet around the home when Warlock Dowling was born, and she had continued to do so for a few spare coins through most of the boy’s childhood. 

She loved him as though he was her own younger brother, and that was  _ why _ seeing him there terrified her. “Warlock, I need you to go,” she said softly, taking a few steps backwards. 

“We’ve all been looking for you, Anne! Where have you been?” Warlock asked, walking up to her. Crowley barely managed to keep her distance, walking back as Warlock stepped towards her. 

“Warlock, I  _ can’t _ come back, I need you to understand that. You can’t stay here and neither can I, I need you to leave me alone,” Crowley said frantically. 

She hadn’t noticed as much with Anathema, but with Warlock, she could hear his blood pulsing in the back of her ears, practically taste it on the back of her tongue. It was all that she could smell and almost all that she could focus on. 

“Anne, I’m not going to go anywhere! I just found you! Anathema and mum will be thrilled, we’ve all been so worried about you!”

“Warlock, listen to me. You need to  _ go. _ I’m not staying and it’s dangerous for you if you try to make me!” Crowley insisted. 

Warlock frowned. “You’re not dangerous. You looked after me all my life, Anne, you’re not dangerous, I would know!” 

“I am  _ now, _ Warlock. Please, just go back to Harriet and don’t tell Anathema you saw me. I have to go.”

Crowley didn’t give him a chance to argue any further. She turned on her heel and raced away from the boy. 

His pounding footsteps told her that he followed. 

She could outrun him, easily. She had better stamina now, there wouldn’t be a problem. 

Until she heard him hit the ground with a thud. He cried out, and Crowley whirled around on instinct. 

She was supposed to look after Warlock, and he was  _ hurt. _ She tried to tell herself to keep running when the smell of the fresh blood hit her. 

She couldn’t even try to tell herself to run. Her feet carried her back to Warlock no matter how much she wanted to run away, but when she got to him, it wasn’t to staunch the blood flow. 

She hauled him roughly off the ground, clamped a hand over his mouth. He squirmed and tried to get away, but he was only a little boy. 

Controlled entirely by the ravenous, desperate thirst clawing at her throat, Crowley’s teeth flashed, and she bit deep into Warlock’s neck. 

The first mouthful of blood was like taking one of Anathema’s energizing herbs. Her senses and focus redoubled, she was hardly even bothered by the boy’s squirming. The world was just her and her thirst, the thirst that was slowly being quenched by each mouthful of blood. 

Small teeth sunk into Crowley’s hand, jolting her out of her focus. She looked down and saw Warlock’s teeth clamped around the flesh between her thumb and finger. She yanked her hand away, staring at the bleeding teeth marks, and the boy screamed. 

Abruptly, when she heard a door open, Crowley realized her mistake. She dropped the boy to the ground, staring between him, bleeding out in the dirt, and the blood on her palm, and then at the first person to get out of their home, a woman about Crowley’s age with long dark hair and dark eyes. 

Anathema. 

Anathema would know as soon as she got up to them what had happened. Crowley’s focus was slowly coming back to the present, she was slowly realizing the gravity of what she had just done, but she still had enough sense to turn and run for the woods.

She could hear Anathema calling after her, could hear the cries and screams of the people she had lived with all her life, but she didn’t stop. Anathema would  _ have _ to stop to help Warlock. 

She just had to keep running.


	10. Chapter 10

“Zira. Just the wolf I was hoping to see,” Michael said, walking up to Zira with an irritated look on her face. 

Zira was in her sheep’s pen, filling their water trough. “Michael! What a pleasant surprise. Did Gabriel send you?”

Michael had been a member of the pack since long before Gabriel had taken over as Alpha. They had been led by another for a very long time, until Samael had destroyed that wolf, and Gabriel had taken over. Many had expected Michael to make a play, but she seemed content to serve as Gabriel’s lieutenant.

Her lack of interest in leading the pack did not make her someone who should be trifled with. Michael was older than Gabriel, and she was strict and severe. “He did, Zira. He has some alarming news.”

Zira frowned. “Alarming news? What appears to be the problem, Michael?” She asked, frowning. 

It had been about a week since the incident in the village, but Zira trusted that Brother Francis would not have let word out about almost being attacked by a vampire, so it couldn’t be about that. Brother Francis had been keeping Zira’s secret for a very long time, and she trusted him completely to keep Anthonia’s, as well.

Anthonia was dozing in the cottage, worn out from her night of hunting. 

And the fact that she’d been up for most of the last week, kept awake by the lack of the moon at night, and staying up with Zira during the day. She was very sweet, but very tired, and Zira had insisted she get some proper sleep today. 

Anthonia had protested, saying she was going to be getting tired from the moon in another week anyways, and she should enjoy the last bit of her time when she supposedly wasn’t tired, but Zira could see the exhaustion in her eyes and had convinced her to take the day to sleep.

Truth be told, Zira loved to spend time with Anthonia, but she also loved to dote on the vampire. She didn’t mind when Crowley would spend the day sleeping and she crept around the cottage, making sure her partner was well cared for. 

Michael cleared her throat. “Are you listening to me?” 

Zira blinked. “Right! Sorry, Michael, I’m a little distracted.”

“Obviously. Well, listen, Gabriel has sensed another vampire in the area, and she’s refusing to leave. She’s been here for the last several months.” 

Zira frowned, tried not to give herself away. “Really? I haven’t noticed anything,” she remarked. 

“Yes, we found that strange, Zira. She’s clearly tasted human blood, a wolf as old as you should be able to smell it. It's faint, but it's there." 

Zira hadn't noticed any smells other than Anthonia, and she wouldn't smell like human blood. Maybe she had best keep her nose to the ground and try to find this vampire. It could be a member of Samael's pack skulking around, trying to clean up a loose end or recruit Anthonia now that she hadn't died. 

"I really haven't noticed," Zira replied, biting her lip. 

"No doubt it has something to do with whoever else has been staying in your cottage. Don't think we've missed the fact that you have a newcomer on our territory," Michael said, raising an eyebrow. 

Zira cast her gaze downwards. "It's no one of interest. Just someone who needed some help, a safe place to get her feet under her. She's not a threat." 

"And she's  _ not  _ the new vampire Gabriel smelled around here? Because it certainly seems odd that just after she appeared at the same time as the smell," Michael remarked. 

Zira frowned. “No, that’s not her. The woman in my cottage isn’t supernatural at all.”

“And yet she’s been here for several months, which means  _ you’ve _ gone and spilled out secrets again, Zira,” Michael said, glaring down at her. “Bad enough you told the bookseller in the village nearby, but now you’ve a human living with you. Listen, Zira, sort this all out before the pack comes back in three weeks. We don’t want to be smelling the vampire around here by then at the very least.”

"Right. Of course. I'll take care of her, Michael, no problem. She'll be out of here before the next full moon." 

Michael didn't quite seem to believe her, but she nodded anyways. "Always a pleasure to see you, Zira. I'll be back then." 

Zira turned and walked away, finished with the conversation. 

She knew the vampire that Gabriel had smelled couldn't be Crowley. Crowley had been a starved newborn when Zira had found her in the cave. She hadn't eaten in days, it was why she had attacked Zira's sheep. 

She was also young and naive. She would have said something if any of Zira's conclusions about her had been wrong. She wouldn't have known to lie to Zira, to pretend she hadn't done anything. 

And she hadn't smelled of any human blood but her own. She'd been smothered in her own blood from how Samael had left her. 

Left her to  _ die.  _ To starve to death or get herself caught. 

What sort of a person could do that to someone else? Just leave someone like Anthonia to die? A girl who had only ever been curious, had only ever wanted answers that made the world make sense. 

Zira knew Samael was a monster. She'd known for a long time, since long before the death of her old pack leader. Samael and his coven left a trail of blood and death and destruction everywhere they went. 

She wasn't surprised to hear Anthonia's story when she thought about it that way. When she pictured her poor dear friend struggling and begging Samael to just let her go and let her live, blood seeping down her neck and the vampire's vicious fangs in her throat, it made her heart ache. 

She knew it would have been just like Samael to ignore Anthonia's pleas. If it hadn't ended like this, then Anthonia's friend would have found her dropped to the ground like a common piece of rubbish, all blood gone, pale as snow and cold as ice, much like she was now, only she never would have opened her golden eyes again. She would have been discarded, dead, on the forest floor. 

Anthonia had very narrowly escaped certain doom. And even then, her hardships weren't over. The vampires didn't tell her of the sun's effects, she might have died of overexposure if she hadn't realized what was happening and gone back in the tent, or woken before the sun moved too much the day they left her behind. She might have starved, or have gone home and been staked by the people she used to consider friends. 

It really was too horrible to think about. Zira climbed out of the sheep's pen and stepped back into the cottage. 

Anthonia was crocheting on the couch, still in her nightgown, long red hair falling around her face as she concentrated on what she was doing. She looked up and squinted in the bright sunlight when Zira walked in, and the wolf closed the door as quickly as she could. 

She walked over to Crowley, pulled her arms around the vampire, held her tightly. 

She needed to think of something other than what might have happened. It was too much to consider what could have happened to Crowley if she hadn't been lucky. 

Zira hadn't been lonely before she'd found the vampire in the cave, but now she couldn't imagine how she was happy on her own, without the flame-haired woman and her keen eyed and sharp tongue. 

"What's this about, Zira? I thought you said you were going to be busy all day, I was going to try my hand at cooking something for you when you came in," Crowley remarked, looking up at the wolf. 

"How would you cook something for me when regular food makes your stomach hurt, dearest?" Zira asked. 

"It's not that bad of a stomach ache, and I didn't think I would have to taste too much of it."

Crowley closed her eyes, leaned against Zira's chest and breathed in deeply. 

Zira smelled of sweat and sheep and earth, and as always like dog, but there was something else there, too. "Did you meet someone out there?" She asked, taking another breath. 

"Gabriel smelled another vampire in the area. Not you, apparently this one smells of human blood; she's probably a part of Samael's pack. He sent Michael to come check in on me."

Crowley tried not to stiffen up. 

What if Zira's former pack wasn't smelling a member of Samael's coven? What if it was her? Would Warlock's blood still cling to her like that, even months after it happened? Was she tainted somehow? Did Zira know? Was the wolf just waiting for her to tell the truth? 

Crowley couldn't tell the truth. She knew Zira said she wouldn't be able to kill her anymore, but she couldn't stand to be chased off, either. She needed Zira the way she had used to need air to breathe. 

"I told her I would deal with it. I'll poke around, see if I can't find the source and scare her off, but we will need to make sure to cover up your smell, too. They know you're here, but they think you're a human. They wouldn't approve of… this. And I still live on their territory. Maybe soon we'll pack up the sheep and Sunshine and find somewhere to live where you don't have to hide but-"

"It's okay, Zira. Tell me how I can help cover up the fact I'm here and I'll do it."

If there  _ was  _ another source, and Zira did chase her off, how long would it be before the pack managed to distinguish between what they had associated to the other vampire and what remained around the cottage? What if they could smell it on her and they told Zira? 

Was her time living happily ever after coming to an end? 

Life here wasn't easy. She was always lying to Zira, there was always a chance she would get caught in it. But she liked her life here. She liked being curled up in Zira's arms, steadily working on her crochet while she listened to the wolf's breathing. 

Zira still needed breath. Crowley found it interesting and amusing that she herself didn't, and she occasionally liked to stop hers entirely just to listen to Zira's, or match hers up perfectly. It was a habit, not a necessity, anyways. 

Without her own air to distract her, Crowley liked to focus entirely on Zira's, leaning against her chest and letting herself rise and fall with each steady breath. She could hear Zira's heart beating when she leaned her cheek against the wolf's chest. 

She was unclear on whether hers still did that. She knew it certain felt as though it did, sometimes, when she was excited about something, but if she only had blood when she ate and she didn't need to breathe, then why would she need her heart to beat? 

Crowley didn't need anything human. Zira called her 'undead' when questioned, whereas the wolf was immortal. The same end result, neither would age and die with time or illness, and Crowley especially could survive many wounds due to not really needing her circulatory system to be intact. 

But there was one important distinction between the two, immortal and undead. Zira would never age because she would live forever. Crowley would never age because she was already dead. 

She knew it was true, she knew her touch was cold and her skin pale and sallow. She didn't need to breathe, she wasn't clear on whether or not her heart still beat. She didn't even have her own blood anymore. 

But it was difficult to wrap her head around. She had never felt more alive than she did sitting with Zira in the cottage, and considering she'd never been this dead before, that didn't really make sense.

"You look pensive, dear. A penny for your thoughts?" Zira asked, smiling down at her and running a hand through her hair. 

It was a week since the new moon, the quickest of Zira's lupine features were returning. Her ears were pointed and raised above where they should have been, her fingernails steadily thickening to claws. 

"Just thinking this is nice," Crowley replied honestly, "thinking about how long eternity is." 

"I suppose over the centuries I've forgotten just how difficult forever is to get used to," Zira mused, pressed a kiss to the crown of Crowley's head. "It must have been jarring at first. Now I've gotten used to it. Humanity changes so quickly, I miss the older days but you get used to the passing of time."

Crowley smiled. "I'm not having trouble adjusting, Zira. Just thinking about how it still doesn't seem long enough to spend with you." 

"You're a flatterer, Anthonia," Zira said with a laugh, "but it is much easier to contemplate the future with you here." 

Questions of her heartbeat aside, Crowley was fairly sure she couldn't blush, but she was also fairly certain that her cheeks were warming up for a reason. 

"I love you, Zira. Have I said that before? I feel like I've done so much dancing around it and hinting at it that it's completely escaped me to just outright say it. I love you, Zira, truly."

Zira squeezed her tighter, kissed her cheek. "I love you too, Anthonia." 

Anthonia knew  _ that _ was something she was going to hold onto inside forever, even if something happened and Zira ever found out about what she had done. She wouldn’t give up the fact that she knew, in this moment, that she had the wolf’s love. 

Zira didn’t seem to notice how torn up Crowley was. “I never imagined I would be living with one of your kind, much less in love with one. It’s not how we’re taught in the pack. I’m glad that I stopped listening to them and gave something new a chance.”

“Zira?”

“Yes, Anthonia?”

Crowley bit her lip. “You asked me how I became a vampire, but I’ve never asked  _ you _ how you became a werewolf. Were you born like that, or are the legends about being bit true?”   
“They both are. There are wolf pups, although they’re exceedingly rare. It’s mostly only pack leaders who mate and a birth in a pack isn’t common. But I was not a wolf pup, to answer your question, I did live a bit of a normal life for a while, although I don’t remember most of it. I did get bit.”

“Did you get turned against your will, too?”

Zira stiffened. “Must not have. That’s not how the packs do things. Covens may be like that, but not packs. It’s distasteful, they must have asked me at some point, but I don’t remember it. It has been nearly two thousand years.”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, it occurred to Crowley that she had just been offended. “So you’re that much better than us.”

“Anthonia, that’s not what I said.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well, did Samael ask your permission before he tried to kill you?” Zira asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m just saying that it may be custom for  _ vampires _ to turn each other on a whim, but werewolves don’t do that! We’re the good guys!”

Crowley got to her feet, dropped her crochet to the ground. “So what am I?” She demanded. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, this one is a little short, but it really just ended here and I couldn't stretch it. Next one will be longer!

Zira had screwed up. 

She knew she had screwed up the moment Anne got upset, but it all got much more serious when the vampire stormed out of the cottage. 

Zira's heart dropped to the floor. 

Michael was still out there somewhere. 

Michael wasn't going to care that Crowley wasn't the vampire the pack had detected. If she came across what she considered the enemy in the woods that were still part of the pack's territory, she would kill her. 

The young vampire was in a terrible amount of danger, and Zira had no idea where she was. 

It was even worse that the moon was waxing. Someone young and inexperienced like Anne might think that with the moon only on its first quarter, she stood a chance.

That false confidence might stop her from running for cover when she had the chance. 

Crowley was smart, but she didn't have the experience other vampires had. 

Anthonia was clever and sneaky, and Zira wanted to believe she could take care of herself, but she knew that wasn't true. 

So Zira pulled on her coat and boots and set out into the woods. 

She wasn't Michael, or really any sort of hunter. Her role in the pack had been more as a warrior than a hunter. 

But that didn't mean that after two thousand years, she couldn't catch a scent. She tipped her head up, ignoring the fact that she knew her senses were dulled at this time of month, and inhaled deeply. 

She could smell Crowley, plain as day, all around the cottage. The wolves were supposed to be long gone, so they had taken no care to hide the vampire's presence. She had tended to the sheep last night, filling their water trough and fetching them a new bale of hay when Zira had admitted that her strength was lacking in the phase of the New Moon. 

Just thinking of that reminded Zira of how sweet Crowley truly was. Why would she have said something so blatantly insulting? 

Crowley wasn't a monster. She was the furthest thing from it, a bright, curious young thing with a mandatory penchant for drinking blood. It wasn't her fault, and it didn't make her monstrous. 

And she wasn't responsible for how she was turned. 

With a sigh, Zira tipped her head down, sniffed closer to the ground, and then, with quite a bit of energy on her part, slipped into her lupine form. 

There was a stronger Crowley smell leading into the woods, and Zira set herself upon the scent. 

She didn't know if Crowley wanted to be found, but she had to try. There were dangers out there for a lone, young vampire. Zira would never forgive herself if something happened to her. 

She didn't really think Crowley would go far. She was angry, yes, and probably more than a little hurt, but if she knew the vampire, she was probably sulking a little ways from the cottage. 

If she thought that Crowley was alone in the woods, she might have howled. Told the young vampire that she was looking for her, giving her a fair chance to come out or keep hiding. 

But if Zira howled, Michael would come. She would hear it and assume Zira had found something unwanted. 

And Crowley was very, very wanted. Zira had screwed up, that was all. She had never meant to make Crowley feel unwanted. 

She kept her nose firmly to the ground, following the smell to a tall oak tree. 

She thought maybe she had simply lost the scent, as it seemed to stop there, at the base of the tree, until she looked up. 

Crowley was sitting on a branch about halfway up the tree. She was staring down at Zira, hurt and anger plain in her golden eyes. She plucked and threw an acorn at Zira's feet. 

"Go away," she said sullenly. 

_I would if I could, Anne. Michael is still in the woods, it's not safe for you out here._

"Why do you care?" Crowley challenged, threw another acorn, closer to Zira's paws this time. "Just a hero taking care of a monster. The good guy beating the bad guy, like in your books."

She didn't throw anything else, just crossed her arms and refused to look down.

For possibly the first time ever, Zira wished she was a cat, rather than a dog. Cats could climb trees. 

_Anne, I do care about you, a rather lot. What I said was heartless and insensitive. I- I'm still so furious with Samael over what he did to you, and I let that cloud my judgement and steer my tongue. Not all vampires are like Samael, but knowing what he did to you makes my blood boil._

"You still believe what you said," Crowley said irritably, not moving from her comfortable perch in the tree. 

_Anne, I don't remember being bitten. It's been far too long. For all I know, we're not so different, after all. I never should have said what I said, I didn't mean to imply that I thought you were a monster. What Samael did to you is monstrous, but it doesn't mean you are. Please come down so we can talk properly, and stop trying to drive me away._

Crowley shifted on her tree branch, now looking down at the wolf, but she didn't come down. "Did you leave your holier-than-thou attitude in the cottage?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Zira had to give her that one. She nodded. 

Crowley slid from the tree branch and landed perfectly on her feet beside Zira. 

She still didn't look particularly impressed. Zira knew she was still more hurt than annoyed, her pain was simply being felt in the form of anger, she would rather lash out at Zira than cry. 

Zira turned back to her human form once Crowley had both feet on the ground. “I’m sorry, dear, I really am. I shouldn’t have said those things, they weren’t true. I love you more than anything and I could never see you as a monster, I swear. I’ve been taught a lot of judgemental, prejudice things, but just being around you shatters them and proves them wrong. They just… they take time to unlearn. I truly don’t believe you’re any more a monster than I am, Anne, I swear. Samael is a monster, but you have done no wrong,” Zira murmured, gently running her hand along Crowley’s brilliant red locks. 

Crowley didn’t pull away from the wolf, which had to be taken as a good sign. “I- I probably shouldn’t have gotten so upset, Zira, it just… it reminded me of when we first met, and I thought we were past that. I thought we had left those initial judgements and assumptions in the past, and you dragged them all back up again.”

“I know, dearheart, I know I did, and I never should have. You are wonderful, I swear to you. I don’t see a monster in you, Crowley, I really don’t.” 

Crowley was quiet for a moment, then she mumbled something Zira didn’t catch. “Dear, could you repeat that?”

“I have a couple of scales on the back of my shoulder. I found them in the bath the other day. Your comment… hit close to home,” Crowley admitted. 

Zira couldn’t help it. She started to laugh. 

Zira was laughing, and Crowley wasn’t really sure how to feel about it. She, for one, had been rather upset when she had looked in her reflection in the water, twisted around to see over her shoulder. All of Zira’s mirrors were still backed with silver, so Crowley couldn’t see her reflection in them, but the wolf had promised she would look for one without the silver soon. 

Crowley had been rather unsettled when she realized what the strange patch on her shoulder was. She had a number of smooth, black scales in place of her skin. 

And she hadn’t wanted to tell Zira, but now Zira knew, and she was laughing. 

“What’s so funny? Zira, do you know what’s going on, because I don’t!” Crowley said worriedly. 

“Oh, right, sorry, of course dear. You don’t know what that is, I shouldn’t laugh when you’re concerned. It’s just that… well, you’ve heard the legend that vampires can turn into bats, haven’t you?”

Crowley nodded, slowly, “Yes, but this isn’t bat fur, Zira, it’s scales. Look!”

She pulled open the first couple of buttons on her shirt, slid it off her left shoulder and turned around. 

Zira’s fingers brushed gently over the glossy black scales. “I know they are, dear. There’s only a partial truth to the myth. The first well-known vampire could indeed turn into a bat, however, that’s far from the only shape. Any nocturnal creature is on the table, really,” she explained, “I should have guessed yours would be reptilian from your eyes and told you about it sooner, but I didn’t think of it. It’s just your animal form making itself known, Crowley. They’ll keep appearing for a while, they’ll spread, and then one day, you probably won’t even realize it, but you’ll transform completely. After that, it’s just a matter of learning to control it. Now, there truly are a lot of reptiles out there, but knowing you… I would put my money on a snake.” 

“So this is normal?” Crowley asked, buttoning her shirt back up. 

“Exceedingly, dear. I hope you weren’t too worried about it, I really should have mentioned this before, especially with your eyes. Mammalian transformations normally take longer to manifest and they’re simpler to catch, and I thought for a while that you might have been a cat. Your eyes would still match, and you are very deft and agile. A snake makes just as much sense, but makes me sorry I didn’t warn you.”

Crowley breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against Zira’s shoulder, who happily pulled her into her strong arms. “I thought something was wrong with me,” she admitted. 

“Nothing could ever possibly be wrong with you, Crowley. You’re perfect.” The wolf gently ran her fingers along the smooth scales under her shirt. "They look like polished stones," she said honestly, "like you've been jewel encrusted."

Crowley snorted. "I think that would hurt even more. At least these just itch."

"They itch?" Zira asked, sounding rather concerned. Her well-groomed nails gently scratched over them, not enough to pick at them, but enough to soothe some of the itching. 

If Zira had been right and she had been a cat, Crowley might have purred. Zira's round nails scratched the incessant itch pleasantly, she smiled softly.

"Have you been dealing with this for long, dear? I dread to think that you've been fretting over this for weeks and didn't want to tell me, I wish I had told you sooner," Zira said, fingers still moving gently over the scales. 

"So I'm going to get more?" 

"You will, slowly but surely. From what I know, once you've fully transformed the first time, you'll be able to control most of it, the way I can with my wolf form, but some things might appear when you're feeling off, or if you're upset." 

Crowley nodded, leaned her head even further against Zira's shoulder. The wolf kissed her cheek. "I am sorry, Crowley. I never meant to hurt you. I only want to love you, I never meant to insult you." 

Crowley nodded, held on tightly to Zira. "It's been a long time since I've really felt okay. Ever since we went to town I've been worked up and on edge. I might have overreacted a little bit. I think… I think it would be nice if we just went home." 

"Of course, dearest," Zira let go of Crowley, who reluctantly took a step away so they could walk back to the cottage. 

Only Zira had only taken a couple of steps when she saw a snarling, golden-furred wolf run out of the trees. 

_You've found the vampire, I see. Well done, Zira,_ Sandalphon said, narrowing his beady black eyes, _now help me take care of her._


	12. Chapter 12

"Sandalphon, Sandalphon wait!" Zira cried as Sandalphon approached, already in his fierce wolf form, a snarl on his lips. 

For lack of a better option, Crowley scrambled back up the tree. She was light and agile and dexterous, she made it look easy despite clearly being afraid. 

_You've found the vampire in the woods, Zira. Well done. Now we need to take care of her!_ Sandalphon said, howling up at the tree. 

Zira's hair stood on end. "No, Sandalphon, you don't understand Anne can't possibly be the vampire you smelled!" She cried. 

Sandalphon's ears laid back. _You know its name_? He demanded, outraged. 

Zira tried to put herself between Crowley's tree and the snarling, gold-furred wolf. "I do, I found her in the woods just a few months ago, she doesn't mean anyone any harm!" 

_How can you say that? Who turned her? Who's coven is she part of?_

Zira bit her lip. "Samael turned her and abandoned her to die a week later. He never fed her human blood, she wasn't worth the effort to him. I found her half-feral in the woods, she had attacked my sheep to avoid hurting a person. She's good, she's not a threat. She's lived with me since, she's hurt no more creatures than you or I!"

Sandalphon's nostrils flared as he sniffed the air. _You shouldn't have tried to lie to me, Zira._

"I'm not lying!" 

_Then tell me why your_ pet _carries the stain of human blood. She's not as innocent as she told you, and you were a naive fool to believe her!_

"But- but that doesn't make any sense! I've never smelled the stain on her, and… and when I met her she didn't know well enough to lie! She had no reason not to tell me the truth! You told me the truth, didn't you Anne?" 

Zira looked up to where Crowley had taken shelter in the branches. 

She expected a vehement agreement from Crowley. A promise that of course she had told the truth, why would she have lied? 

She got nothing but silence. 

"Anne?" 

Slowly, Crowley reached into her pocket and pulled out something that shone in her hand. "I didn't know where to go when Samael's coven left. I tried to go home."

Zira's heart sank. "You told me you avoided your village, Anne."

_Of course she did. She's a liar and a monster of the highest order._

"Where else was I supposed to try to go, Zira?" Crowley asked quietly. She studied whatever it was she was holding in her hand. "I didn't go to stay, but I needed some supplies. My cloak and my boots."

"Crowley… don't tell me you're saying… you can't have…"

Crowley didn't answer Zira's plea. "I was looking through my mother's jewelry when the woman I lived with came home, and I had to run. I got out okay, but another one of the villagers spotted me before I could leave. He- his name was Warlock, I used to look after him for his mother when I was young. He was like my little brother, Zira, and I tried to convince him to leave. I knew I shouldn't go anywhere near him, I really did! But- but he wouldn't listen, so I ran and he chased me and-" 

Crowley took a moment, taking a shaky breath before she continued. There were tears streaming down her cheeks. "He tripped and scraped his knee. I would have kept going except… when I heard him yell… I did what I was supposed to do, Zira, I turned around to try to help him and- and-"

She didn't need to continue. Zira got the picture. 

"You killed him," she said, horror plain in her voice. "Before you ever got to me or my sheep. You killed a little boy you used to look after. And you never told me."

"I knew what you would do if you found out! You told me what you would do! I was- I was scared, Zira, you told me you would kill me if I had hurt someone so I didn't tell you!"

_They're fickle, manipulative creatures. You should know this by now, Zira. She's been using you._

Zira's gaze tore frantically between Crowley, the vampire who had just betrayed her, the vampire she loved who had lied to her, who had slaughtered an innocent child before she met Zira and never said a word, and her former pack mate. 

Crowley shook her head miserably. "No, no I wasn't. That's the only lie I ever told you, Zira, I really was lost and trying to save people. I came to your farm because I was trying to stay away from my village, attacked your sheep hoping I wouldn't attack another person. I really was abandoned, I really was scared of hurting someone again and I really did love-"

"Don't you bloody well dare finish that, Crowley!" Zira snarled suddenly, "if you loved me you would have been brave enough to tell me the truth!" 

"If I loved you I would have died for your self-righteous cause?" Crowley retorted, "is that what you would have me be? A martyr to your love and a crime I commit when I didn't know any better? Would you have done the same for me?" 

_She's manipulating you, Zira. Just like she has this whole time._

"You're going to trust that wolf over me? If you are, I doubt you ever loved me, either."

"Come down and talk with us, Crowley," Zira snapped, "quit hiding."

"What, so your friend can tear me apart the moment I'm low enough? If our roles were reversed and I'd told you it was my duty to destroy any werewolves who'd attacked a vampire, would you have told me?" 

Zira growled, deep in her throat. "That's not the same!" She snapped. 

"It's exactly the same!" Crowley shot back, "I was just supposed to tell you what happened, roll over and bare my throat for you to tear it out? I did what I had to in order to survive, and don't you pretend for a second that I don't regret what happened to Warlock every goddamn time I open my eyes and remember that he can't anymore!"

"You killed a child!" 

"Do you really think I would have if I'd been physically able to stop it? Do you think it's something I wanted to do? It was an accident I regret every day, from the time I wake up to when I close my eyes and pray that his face stays out of my dreams and I just get some rest!" 

Zira frowned. "There's nothing I can do, Crowley, even if I wanted to. You've commit a capital crime and the pack has found you. Maybe I won't help them execute you, but I can't protect you," she said, "you've made your bed, now lie in it." 

"I don't need your help," Crowley seethed, "if your pack wants me dead, they can come and get me. If you want me dead, you can come and get me. But last I checked, dogs don't climb trees."

She had a point. Crowley had an advantage, being off the ground. Snakes worked their way through trees all the time, with the light grace and flexibility their long spines provided them. 

Dogs didn't have the same luck. So long as Crowley could stay off the ground, she stood a chance. She would have anyone climbing up to reach her at a disadvantage. 

But she couldn't stay in the tree forever. Sandalphon, Zira and Crowley all knew that. She needed to hunt, and that would be difficult so far off the ground. 

_Stay here,_ Sandalphon ordered, _I'm going to get Gabriel. If she escapes, I'll have you charged with treason._

Zira nodded. 

It was a scene very reminiscent of earlier that day. Crowley sat securely on her tree branch, Zira stood guard below the tree. "So that's it then. You're just going to let them kill me. That's all this ever meant to you."

"Don't play that card with me, Crowley, you know damn well why I'm doing this. I trusted you, and you spat it in my face!" 

"You never asked me." 

"What?" 

"You never actually asked me if I'd ever hurt a human. Maybe if you had asked, I would have told you. But you were perfectly content to live in your little world, to cover your eyes and mouth and ears and let no evil in. You welcomed your denial just fine, and then when it blew up in your face, you blamed me. I never lied to you, Zira, because you never asked me."

Zira didn't seem pleased by that remark, but she didn't say anything else. 

It didn't take long for a number of wolves to return with the one that Zira had called Sandalphon. Crowley watched them intently, trying not to let her fear show in her eyes. 

A brown and grey wolf both raced to Zira's sides, reassuring human forms to stand beside the wolf Crowley had trusted. 

The grey one turned into a middle-aged man with dark, greying hair, purple eyes, a purple silk tie and a fine grey suit. It was not hard to tell he was in charge. "You've located the beast at last, I see," he said. 

He sounded American. 

"Yes I have, Gabriel."

Crowley did remember that Gabriel was the alpha male, the leader of Zira's pack. 

The second wolf, the brown one, turned into a slightly shorter woman in a pristine white suit, with her dark hair in a severe updo. 

She assumed that woman must be Michael. 

"It certainly took you long enough, Zira. I was beginning to think you didn't want us to find her. But here she is, reeking of the stain of human blood."

Morbidly curious, Crowley lifted her arm to her nose, took a sniff. "I don't smell anything," she said. 

Zira flashed her a look that told her to shut up, but considering Zira was going to stand back and watch Crowley die, the wolf wasn't high on the list of people Crowley should listen to right now. 

Gabriel turned to the rest of the pack. "Get her down from the tree. By any means necessary."

Crowley braced herself as several wolves approached the trunk of the tall oak tree. She recognized the one with gold fur and beady eyes, Sandalphon, from earlier, and a darker one with light patches also stalked up to the tree. 

Crowley looked helplessly at Zira, but Zira refused to meet her eye. 

The oak tree was old and strong, but these creatures were ancient and not so easily dismissed. They jumped against the trunk of the tree, barking and howling, and Crowley had to fight hard to stay balanced on her branch. She wished the transformation Zira had told her about would come more quickly, perhaps as a snake she could wind herself around the branch and end the danger she was in. 

As it was, standing on the branch in her heavy boots wasn't currently serving her well. Despite the age of the oak tree, the wolves were shaking it, and their howling did its job of putting her on edge well. 

Crowley tried to crouch down and lower her center of gravity, to regain some of her balance, but when she did so, one of her feet slipped off the branch entirely and she nearly toppled off the branch and out of the tree. 

The eerie howling got more frenzied when she slipped. 

Crowley looked back at Zira. The wolf pointedly refused to watch any of it, her back turned to the rest of the pack and Crowley. A thousand acidic, cruel words she could spit at the wolf bubbled in Crowley's throat, but she didn't say any of them. 

"This is taking too long. Michael, help Uriel and Sandalphon," Gabriel ordered. 

Michael charged at the tree, transforming as she went, and Crowley tried to brace herself but it was no use. Michael slammed into the trunk and Crowley's footing slipped. She managed to hold herself up on fingernails and tore and bled for a couple of seconds, and then had no choice but to let go and drop to the ground. 

She had nowhere to run. The wolves were faster. 

She was caught. The short second life of Anthonia J. Crowley was about to come to a screeching halt, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

All in front of her were snarling teeth, slobbering jaws. There was no mercy or comfort in those faces the way she saw in Zira's, just pure, unchecked malice. 

She took a couple of steps back as the pack approached her, slowly fanning out to encircle her, found her back met by the trunk of another tree. 

She had one last desperate attempt. She searched about the row of snarling wolves trapping her, and found Zira, still standing beside Gabriel. "Zira!" 

The wolf couldn't help but look up at her when she cried out. "Zira, please, this can't have all meant nothing to you!"

Zira just gazed at her sorrowfully. "You betrayed me, Crowley. This did mean something. But I can't trust you anymore."

Crowley squeezed her eyes shut tightly. She didn't want to watch death approach her, she didn't want to see when the jaws opened to tear her apart. 

She still had her eyes closed when a strange but almost familiar scent appeared on the air. She knew it from somewhere, long ago. 

"It can't be, we should have been able to tell they were coming!" Gabriel snapped. 

"But, my dear Gabriel, you were too busy trying to execute a member of my coven to pay your surroundings any mind."

Crowley knew the melodious voice that was approaching from behind her. She kept her eyes closed. 

"Open your eyes, little sister. When we left you behind, we didn't realize you had it in you to survive. But you've hunted a human all on your own. That alone makes you worthy of our ranks. And that means, Gabriel, that unless you want a fight, your pack won't be killing her." 

Hesitantly, Crowley opened her eyes. 

The wolves were focused on something behind her, even Zira and Gabriel were ignoring her, but she didn't dare look away from them. 

A hand touched her shoulder. "You needn't be afraid, little sister. I see we made an error in leaving you behind, an error we won't repeat. You have a place in our coven, away from these savage creatures that would murder you for following your instincts. Vampires were never meant to drink the blood of animals. Tonight, to celebrate your joining us, we will hunt and you will taste true nourishment again." 

Crowley finally looked up, following the hand with long, glossy fingernails that rested on her shoulder up to a face she knew from half her nightmares. 

"Samael," she whispered. 

"Oh, little sister. My _family_ calls me _Lucifer_."


	13. Chapter 13

Zira's stomach was churning with hurt and guilt. 

She'd looked away again, unable to watch the fate of the young vampire she'd grown to love, unwilling to witness what she knew had to be done, but what tore her heart out to allow. 

She couldn't change the laws, couldn't change what was right and what was wrong. Anthonia had attacked a human, had left a little boy to die in her village. She couldn't look past that fact no matter how much she wanted to. 

Anthonia J. Crowley had to die. There was no other option, but it didn't mean that Zira wanted to watch it happen. 

She did love Anne. She really did. But it wasn't enough. 

She hadn't looked back up until she'd heard a new voice. Low and melodious and mostly unfamiliar, she hadn't heard it in almost a century. 

Now she looked up, seeing Anne, pressed up against the trunk of a tree with the pack encircling her, ready to strike her down, and a hand with glossy, manicured fingernails on her shoulder. 

She didn't like the sight, the way Samael placed his hand possessively on Crowley's shoulder, the way his long, elegant fingers squeezed it as he spoke to her. 

"Oh, little sister. My family calls me Lucifer."

Crowley tensed up when Lucifer laid a hand on her. Zira didn't like it, not one bit. 

"L- Lucifer- I-" 

Crowley was stammering. 

"Hush, little sister, you needn't say a word, I know what's happened here. Wolves are savage creatures. You're safe now, with the coven." 

Zira couldn't tell if Crowley looked reassured or not. 

"This isn't over, Samael, she's been living on our territory, and you're on it right now. She's ours to pass judgement upon," Gabriel said with a sniff. 

"She's a member of my coven. Tonight, we hunt. I assure you, you won't stop us."

Crowley really didn't look comfortable with that idea. Zira didn't understand why she wouldn't be, it was nothing Crowley hadn't done in the past. 

Crowley finally took a step away from the tree, closer to Samael, and hissed in pain as a spot of sunlight touched her hand. She yanked it away, a red burn already forming. 

Samael looked down at her when she flinched. "Now is not the time to settle this," he said. 

Zira had never fully understood Gabriel's insistence of chivalry. The coven was at a disadvantage, having to avoid the sun and wolves. If they fought now, the bloodsuckers would lose. 

But Gabriel insisted on fighting on equal ground. 

They would not cross until the sun had set. For now, both parties would retreat and rest up.

"Tonight, once the sun has set," Gabriel agreed, "but you'll not lay a finger on anyone in my territory, or I'll lead my pack into your camp and slay you as you sleep."

Samael nodded. His hand didn't leave Crowley's shoulder, he pulled her backwards, away from the pack.

Zira stared at Crowley as she was led away by the vampire coven, deep into the woods. 

The wolves, for their part, retreated back to Zira's cottage. 

Gabriel walked up behind her and clapped her on the shoulder. "You did the right thing, Zira. That creature is a monster just like the rest of them."

Zira could barely breathe. "I- I thought-"

"I know she fooled you, Zira, it was plain to see. Don't worry about it, you're not under her spell anymore. You're back on the right side of justice. Now, go back to your cabin and rest up. We'll be waiting in the woods, come to us before the sun sets." 

Zira nodded and went into her cottage, but she found she couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned for hours before she finally gave up, got out of bed and made her way outside. 

If she hadn't known better, she might have thought there was a fox in her sheep's pen. But by now she knew it was just Crowley, sitting in the shadows of the stone fence. 

Zira hopped over the wall and stormed up to her. "What are you doing here?'" She demanded, glaring down at the vampire. 

Crowley had one of the sheep's head in her lap, she was gently running her hands through its wool. "Same as you, I couldn't sleep." 

"So you thought you would just come here?" Zira demanded, "back to my sheep pen like you're still welcome here?" 

"If I'm so unwelcome, Zira, then do something about it. Chase me off instead of talking with me."

Zira grit her teeth in frustration. "All I would have to do is howl, Crowley. You've left the safety of Samael's camp, this is the pack's territory."

"Then do it. Howl. I dare you. I dare you to prove that out of the two of us, the one really capable of murder is you," Crowley challenged, glaring up at the wolf. 

"Says the one who murdered a child!" 

"I was barely a week into this life and tried everything I could to avoid what happened, and Warlock haunts almost every single one of my nightmares, Zira, he has since it happened. If you howl now, how much rest do you see yourself getting in the future? Think you'll be able to sleep any more soundly than tonight if you're responsible for my death?"

"Don't you try to pin this on me! You're the killer, Crowley, you attacked a child! Tonight Samael is going to wage war on my pack because of you!" 

"How many people just like me have you slaughtered, Zira?" Crowley asked, staring up at her from where she sat against the stone wall. "If you truly believe I'm fit to die, then do it. Even Lucifer will have to concede my death as necessary if I'm killed on your territory. If I deserve death, then turn into a wolf and tear out my throat, stake me through the chest and burn my flesh from my bones. Go on, I won't stop you. If you think it's what I deserve, then do it."

Zira could barely keep herself composed after Crowley's outburst. She didn't move, she didn't speak, just stared at Crowley in distress. "That's not fair of you, Crowley! Do you even realize how much I loved you? And you did this to me!" 

"What did I do to you, Zira? It happened before I met you. Do you really think I would ever hurt someone if I had the choice?" 

Zira tried hard to tell herself that Crowley would have. That if she had done this once, she must have been the monster that Gabriel said she was. 

She didn't manage to convince herself. "Tell me what happened that night, Crowley," she said, "I- I don't know if I can forgive you. But- but maybe if I understand I could at least be moved to try to help you escape. Gabriel… if he has his way, he won't let you survive the fight. You've insulted him by staying in his territory for so long." 

"Where you invited me to stay," Crowley said pointedly. "I wouldn't have stayed here if you hadn't asked me to. And- and if Gabriel can tell just from how I smell, why couldn't you?" 

Zira sighed. "When I met you… you were so scared, and you'd been running and- and I guess I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. I thought all I smelled was your blood. You were covered in it. Since then I… I must have just refused to believe it was there. I can smell it on you now." 

Crowley sighed. "I really did tell you and Sandalphon the truth. It was stupid, but I went home. I wasn't trying to stay, I knew better, but I needed some supplies, some keepsakes. I knew I had to leave that life behind right then and there. I went back for my mother's jewelry and my cloak. I dropped this on my foot," Crowley pulled out and brandished the one thing she had brought with her, a large pendant, a snake coiled around a red gemstone. "Anathema, the woman I used to work with, heard it hit the ground and called for me. I knew better than to stay, I grabbed this and went out the window. I thought that I had gotten away with it, she gave up calling me, and I was leaving when Warlock snuck up on me." 

A tear slipped down Crowley's cheek. "He was such a wonderful child. His father owned the village, his mother was a friend of my mother's. She asked me to help look after him when he was young for a few spare coins. He was like my little brother, Zira. He would be twelve by now, he was born on a long hot day in August."

Crowley took a moment, tucked the necklace back into her pocket, wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. "He begged me to stay, but I knew I couldn't. I didn't want to tell him what had happened to me, I was worried he would get scared and alert someone. My village didn't take kindly to the supernatural. I kept asking him just to let me go but he didn't want to. When I ran, he chased me, and he tripped. I- I- it doesn't really matter, but I think I turned around because he heard him hit the ground and knew he was hurt. But- but that was really the last conscious thought I had. The next time I remember having an idea what I was doing, he was in my arms and someone was running towards us. I dropped him and ran like a coward, Zira. Maybe according to you I should have just let them kill me. Maybe I think that too, but I didn't. Now I have to live with it. Live with it forever, apparently, unless Gabriel has anything to do with it." 

Zira was quiet for a moment. "You really didn't want to hurt anyone," she breathed. 

"It was the last thing I wanted, Zira. I was still running when you met me because I needed to get myself far away from everyone, and you- you were perfect. You wanted me here, and I liked being near you and you were the only one I could be around without feeling like I did that night." 

Crowley buried her face in her hands, sobbed. "You were all I had, Zira, the last person who thought I might be anything but a monster, even after I had given up, and you stood there to let me die today like you'd never cared at all. Did you even think about me, or just your own hurt? I needed you, Zira. And you left me to die for something I tried so hard not to do. Warlock is in almost every single one of my nightmares now, and when he's not there, it's the vampire trying to tell me that I have to join his coven now and do it again."

Crowley didn't expect much from her confession. Zira had been ready to let her die just hours ago, she wasn't sure she could change that. 

She was proven wrong when Zira threw her arms around her. "I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry, Anne, I never should have doubted you. I- I shouldn't have- it hard when you've listened to someone all your life and then- but I was wrong, Anne. I should have defended you. I- I true friend never would have doubted you, but- I-"

Initially, Crowley wanted to be angry. Zira had left her up a tree with a pack of wolves surrounding her, ready to knock her down and tear her apart. 

But she knew that just the same way that she hadn't known any better, Zira had spent millenia with this pack with these rules. 

"Will you- can you ever forgive me?"

That was a harder question to answer. "Will you sell me out again, or help me?" Crowley asked, biting her lip. "I can't stay here. Your pack will kill me or- or- I don't want to join Lucifer's coven. Why does he think I have to?" 

Zira sighed. "He saved you from us, first of all, second, you're a vampire without a coven. Any coven leader can lay claim to you, unless you can prove you belong to a different one, you have to go." 

"I don't want to. He left me to die in the sun, Zira, and he's going to expect me to hurt someone else! He wants to hunt in the village you showed me to in order to celebrate his victory tonight, I don't want that to happen, I don't want to hurt anyone else!" 

Surely Zira must believe her. It couldn't be that hard to tell that she was telling the truth. What had happened to Warlock was a tragic accident, one that she never intended to allow to happen again.

And her hand was being forced. Right now, even if she survived, she wouldn't be able to recognize herself by the time the night was through. Lucifer would demand that she partake in the hunt. By the time the sun was rising, she would be the monster Zira thought she was. 

"I know you don't, dear. Come inside and we'll make a plan, but you have to understand that your best option might be to run. I don't think I can protect you from the coven and the pack here."

"What would happen to you if you let me go?" Crowley asked worriedly, "your pack will be able to tell I came here before running, what will they do to you?"

"By lupine law, I'll be charged with treason. They may kill me, but after I was willing to let you die, I owe that to you."

Crowley shook her head vehemently. "You don't owe me your life for believing what you've been told for two thousand years, Zira. I don't want you to think you have to die for me. We'll find another way."

"I don't think there is another way," Zira said softly. 

"What if we both run?" 

"They'll chase us if we both disappear. If it's just you, I might be able to convince them to remain distracted by Samael's coven for long enough for you to find one of your own, one that can protect you but won't make you do anything you don't want to." 

"Zira?" 

"Yes, Crowley?" 

Crowley wiped her eyes. "You told me that we would be our own little group. I'm not going anywhere without you, dangerous or not. If we both can't escape, then we'll both stay."

"You'll be killed, Crowley. Please, dear, I've already made the mistake of almost letting you die once. Don't force my hand and make me do it again. Flee to somewhere you feel safe."

Crowley shook her head. "The only place I feel safe is here with you, Zira. I'm not going anywhere, we'll figure this out together. Thank you for believing me."

"You don't owe me any thanks. I never should have doubted you."


End file.
